#maybe markus is having a too-hot day

[cregansdingdong]

ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, m!receiving oral, very sloppy blowjob good stuff, starts off slow but then there's some face-fucking, swearing, one *tiny* face smack (its not bad i promise), he’s gonna come in her throat for giving him attitude; yeah the gif is the perfect representation for this tbh

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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“What was I supposed to do then? Refuse the Lord Commander?” Cregan raises a brow, head tilted up at the ceiling as his wife stood there in front of his desk, hands on her hips. “I didn’t say that, Cregan. He could’ve waited a moment rather than storm into breakfast. And for what? To report a runaway from Castle Black? He could’ve sent a raven and saved himself all the trouble. I think he just wanted a small getaway.” He barks out a laugh at her accusation. “And I think you’re spoiled. My spoiled little wife who does not like having my attention taken away.”

“And so what if I don’t?” She huffs, lips morphing into a scowl. “Especially not during meal times—you’re a busy man and breakfast is Cregan time, not Lord Stark. My time with my husband. Lord Commander Markus surely was exhausted from his journey—but the entire thing was needlessly frantic. You are not a dog he may call on the moment he prefers it.” Cregan, since the day they'd married, had been a fairly patient man. She had a southern temper, which he had to learn how to douse and maintain just as she did. That's not to say his wife wasn't capable of controlling herself—she merely didn't care how she spoke to him.

His glance is lined with warning, but she either didn't catch it or ignored it completely. He guesses the latter. “Those sorts of matters are my responsibility. Deserters must be punished by my hand, wife. That is the way of the North, which you know well by now. Refrain from comparisons.” Neither of them were backing down. “Of course that is the only thing you take away from what I'm saying.” She scoffs. “My comparison is correct. When he calls, you bark. When he arrives, you heel. Are you his Warden Wolf or his pup? Because I'm not sure I can tell the difference any—”

“Get on your knees.”

“...what?” The surprise on her face would be etched into his memory forever. “On your knees. I won’t tell you again, wife.” His voice was low in the quiet of the room; daunting, even. “Right here.” Cregan scoots his chair back from the desk, thighs spread, gray eyes unblinking as he waits. She debated walking away, but she knew better. He watched as she took a few meager steps around his desk, the hem of her gown slowly gathering on the floor. Maybe she'd pushed him too far this time. “I think you've forgotten yourself—who's wife you are.” He squeezes her chin in his large hand, pleased by her soft sound of protest. “Yes, you have.” He grunts, stopping the words from leaving her mouth. “And now, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you—when I tell you. Do you understand?”

He seemed fairly satisfied with her little nod. “Good, pup. Unlace my breeches.” His wife reaches out to fumble with the ties after only a moment, his hand releasing the grip on her flushed face. She tugs the laces with a fervor, feeling him harden under her fingertips. It didn’t take much, honestly. He murmurs something she doesn’t catch as she gently wriggles him out of the confines of his breeches, brows furrowed in concentration. “You don’t deserve my cock in your mouth yet. Kiss only. Use your tongue if you have such a lack of self-restraint. You’re good at that.” The jab was directed and shot, but the weight of him in her hand had her head spinning too fast to say anything smart in return. Her lips meet his tip with a quiet, pleased hum, her tongue dipping into the crease where his precum dribbled. 

Cregan’s reaction was immediate. “Like that…” He sighs, head tilting back, just savoring the relief. Fire thrummed in her stomach. She kisses down the underside of his cock, ignoring the tickle of the dark hair at the base of him as it brushed against her jaw.

His arms were slack on the rests, fingers twitching with every small suction of her lips on him. Kiss by kiss, he hardens fully under her hands, and lines of swears erupt from his throat like mantras. “In your mouth now, pup.” He looks down at her with hooded eyes, looking like he was trying not to smile but failing anyway. To be fair, it was Cregan. The slight quirk of his lips was upturned enough to count. She situates herself a little further between his thick thighs, resting her elbows down midway as her palms lay over his. And then she took him into her mouth.

“Fuck..” He groans, something low and sinful that brought her butterflies. It was quite the sight to see the Warden of the North melt so easily by a tongue. He wasn’t like most men sometimes—usually. This, though. He certainly was. Not much longer before he’d forget what she said to him in the first place. The thought drove her to sink deeper on him, barely able to go halfway but that was already enough to get his tip in the far end of her mouth. He curses more—although entirely unintelligible this time—and his hands lift, presumably to tangle themselves in her hair. But they don’t make it there. She might’ve been trapped there on the floor between his legs, but that didn’t mean he was going to get all that he wanted. Her nails dig hard into the back of his hands, close to the wrists, and keep them firmly planted against the armrests.

He hisses momentarily in surprise. With his thick skin, it was more likely his ego was more hurt than his hands. She bobs her head with a vengeance of her own, and he slumps in the chair with a growl, thoroughly annoyed to be held back. “I’m going…to give you…five seconds...wife. Release me.” Her nails dig harder in response, pinching the skin hard enough for him to react. Cregan’s thighs tense more under her elbows. She counted down in her mind as she was sure he was doing in his. It was absolutely worth a bit of punishment. Saliva coated his cock, the drool slithering down the underside of it enough to make it sound even more lewd. He loved it when she abandoned her manners. “Wife.” He warns again. What happened to never repeating yourself twice, husband? The thought would’ve made her laugh if it weren’t for his cock.

He bucks his hips toward her throat—on purpose, obviously—and the force of it surprises her entirely, gagging in the slightest as she loses her grip on him. His hands are snatched from under her ruthless nails, and although out of view as he clutched her cheeks together, she didn’t fail to catch the pinkish skin around the moon-shaped indentations. They would certainly leave a mark tomorrow. Cregan pushes her back from his cock, seething, and his dark eyes never leave her face. His fingers dig into her cheeks unconsciously before letting go—and as quick as they go, a warning smack makes her face turn to the side. It didn’t hurt, by any means, but it sent a thrill right down between her thighs. “If you ever hold my hands back again, I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that all of Winterfell will hear your pathetic little mewls for me to stop. Do you understand me, pup? Answer me.”

“I understand.” She relents, eyes darting from his face to his red cock, the beat of her heart following every throb of the pretty veins. His eyes narrowed at her, not entirely trusting but he’d gotten his point across. “Make me come, wife.” She didn’t need him to say another word, her lips instantly wrapping around his tip to pick up where she left off. This time, she kept her hands planted on his thighs, breathing harshly through her nose as she took more and more of his cock. Her fists clenched around his breeches tightly, her gaze flicking up at him. He was watching, panting, the last of his restraint hanging by a thread. Cregan never lasted very long in her mouth, not that either of them thought he needed to. “To the base.” He mutters, holding off the urge to fuck her throat. He wanted to see if she could do it herself first.

His wife does her best attempt three-fourths of the way—close enough for the tip of her nose to brush against the coarse hair. The feeling nearly brought him to the edge anyway, close to falling off entirely. His grunts were louder, less composed. He was getting desperate. He reaches out to grip her hair, his own strands drooping down into his line of sight. “I’m gonna come—hold your breath for me.” She does. He doesn’t waste a moment, cupping her face gently, thumbs soothing the skin of her cheeks as he starts to buck up into her mouth like he was rabid. The sound of his tip sliding almost into her throat was enough to do it. Cregan was snarling now, fucking her face with purpose as the come dribbled down her tongue and mouth. “Good girl! Good fucking girl! Taking me so well!”

Eventually, he slowed, spent and breathing heavily as she recuperated through long inhales and exhales through her nose. She was still sucking on him though, eager for every drop. Leaned back in his chair, limp like a rag doll, Cregan gave her one of his sweet, lazy smiles. “...Told you not to compare.”

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[exitmusicforastory]

Conventional Weapons: Chapter Six

CHICAGO, UNITED STATES

PRESENT DAY

Markus Sauber leans against the brick exterior of the restaurant, staring impatiently down the street. The chilly morning breeze ruffles his dark hair and whips his face, making Chicago’s title of the Windy City well earned. He adjusts his stance, shuffling his feet in annoyance. Mason should have been here by now. For a government agent, he seems to be fairly unprofessional. Markus glances down at his watch to see that Mason is almost ten minutes late to their first meeting. He sighs. Markus Sauber is many things, but patient isn’t one of them. His blood runs too hot, and his body runs too tense for that. Patience is for those who don’t spend their nights brutalizing criminals and evading law enforcement. Patient is for bureaucrats and spies, and Markus is neither. He glances around the street once more, scanning the cars, the passersby, the patrons of the little cafe across the street, but there is no sign of the steel-faced, grey-haired agent. The weak morning light filters through the clouds, not quite gloomy, but certainly not cheerful. Markus continues waiting, growing increasingly frustrated with every passing second. Just as he is about to give up and go home, recognizing that he’s been scammed, he hears a businesslike voice at his shoulder. 

“Mr. Sauber?”

Markus whips his head around to face the woman. She’s short, barely over five feet, Latina, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and large dark eyes. She is dressed casually, but she nevertheless manages to look entirely put-together in her light blue tank top, brown leather jacket, and jeans. Markus narrows his eyes at the unfamiliar woman and opens his mouth to answer her.

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

The woman smiles and shakes her head, “No, I’m Agent Emelia Sanchez. I’m a colleague of Nicholas Mason who you met last night.”

“You mean, you’re-”

“Not here. But, yes. Agent Mason apologizes for his absence. He got an urgent call from DC this morning and took the first flight out. He sent me to meet you. I’m to be your supervisor.”

“My- What?”

Before replying, Emelia grabs his arm and pulls. Shocked, he stumbles at the surprising strength of her grip and follows her for a few steps before coming to his senses. He stops in his tracks and yaks his arm away from her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting us a ride.”

Markus stares at her in disbelief.

“You think you’re just gonna drag me somewhere without telling me what the hell is going on?!”

“I’ll explain in the car,” she says, steering him towards the curb. A black sedan slows to a stop in front of them and Emelia immediately walks up to it. Without hesitation, she opens the rear passenger door and ushers Markus into the back of the car. Markus pauses, distrustful and tense, before meeting Emelia’s reproachful eyes. He sighs, and something inside him gives in. He loses his last bit of self control and common sense. This woman is a government agent. Not only that, but she’s his ticket out of this god-forsaken city. And maybe, just maybe, she’s his chance to finally gain a little recognition for his work. He clenches his jaw and climbs into the back of the car. Emelia smiles and follows him. Markus settles in the driver’s side seat, fastening the seat belt before glancing up towards the front seat of the car. A stone-faced man sits with his hands on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. His blue eyes meet Markus’ in the rearview mirror and the two men exchange a terse nod. Emelia situates herself in the seat opposite from Markus and shuts the car door behind her. The second it closes, Markus feels a lurch in his gut, as if an invisible fish hook has caught behind his naval. There’s no turning back now. The car pulls away from the curb and begins to merge with the oncoming traffic. Agent Sanchez turns to Markus and smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling ever so slightly.

“Well, Mr. Sauber,” she says, “Now that we’re somewhere a little more private, I think I owe you an explanation.”

Markus grunts in amusement. “You’re damn right.”

Emelia ignores his bluntness and continues.

“We had originally planned to put you through some basic training before throwing you straight into the mouth of the lion’s den, but our mission timeline has been somewhat accelerated.”

“What do you mean?” Markus asks, “You haven’t even told me what our mission is. Hell, I don’t even know what Mason hired me to do.”

Emelia pauses, pressing her lips together in thought.

“Agent Mason had heard about your local… exploits, and realized that you could be of value to our cause. He approached our superior, and campaigned to have you recruited as an agent. His request was denied, but he managed to find grounds to hire you as a sort of independent contractor.”

Markus stares at her in shock for a moment before responding.

“You mean I’m not going to be an agent?”

Emelia frowns and shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. Without the official CIA baggage, you are free to make a lot more decisions on your own.”

Markus slowly knits his brow. “You mean I can act outside government jurisdiction?”

“That’s the general idea.”

Markus considers her words and nods, turning to look out the window at the landscape of concrete buildings and passing cars. Somehow this new designation, ‘outside of government jurisdiction’, makes his new prospective job all the more exciting. He’s always found something exhilarating in thwarting the rules, be it school regulations or federal laws. He turns back to Emelia, and sees that she has pulled out a manilla folder with printed text embossed across the cover.

“So,” he says, “What’s this mission?”

Emelia slides the folder across the leather seat between them and Markus picks it up, reminded of the folder that Mason showed him last night. He opens it. This isn’t the same one; no blurry shot of him is present, but instead a thick stack of finely printed documents greets him. His eyes swim and his head throbs just looking at it.

“Sorry, but there’s no way in hell I’m reading all that right now.”

Emelia lets out a short laugh and shakes her head. “Oh, of course not. That’s just background information you might want to read over later. No, I’m going to give you a verbal briefing. I have to make sure you’re prepared before your flight departs.”

“My… flight?” Markus stares at her with a look of visible confusion on his face.

“You’re leaving from Chicago O’Hare to Krakow on the next plane out.”

“Krakow? As in Krakow, Poland?”

Emelia nods. “Ready for your briefing, Mr. Sauber?”

Markus doesn’t have time to respond before she launches into rapidfire explanation mode.

“We have had a network of informants keeping track of a series of Russian SVR black ops stationed across central and eastern Europe for the past decade. Our agents have been focused on finding and apprehending one man: Andrey Ruslanovich. He is a Russian scientist who has been the SVR’s lead in the human experimentation department. The results of his research could be invaluable to our military and intelligence services, as they have been to Russia’s. His last known location was Krakow.”

“So,” Markus replies, “You want me to find Ruslanovich?”

“Not quite,” Emelia replies, “Three days ago, one of our leading agents, Robert Knowles, was found murdered, and all signs of Ruslanovich were lost. We need you to find Knowles’ killer and apprehend them. We suspect they might have information on the experiments, and we can’t let that get out. You have a good amount of experience bringing criminals to justice, so, naturally, you’re the obvious choice for the job.”

Markus nods slowly and meets Emelia’s eyes with a gaze both intense and determined.

“I promise I won’t disappoint.”

[petermorwood]

Hello! Regarding your very recent post about St Patrick's Day Beer: Himbeersirup is indeed Raspberry syrup, not strawberry as you've stated. Also, Berliner Weisse without syrup can be quite refreshing on a hot day when served cold, it has a lower alcohol content of about 2.5 vol % if I remember correctly and is indeed pretty sour on its own. I prefer it with the Waldmeistersirup, which is probably impossible to get anywhere else but it Germany. It is *very* artificial in flavour AND colour. Anyways, I hope you and your wife have a wonderful Sunday evening!

(also to @schimmelspore)

I finished that post and the long one about coddle at about 4:30AM, then went to bed - and woke up at 6AM thinking Erdbeer oder Himbeer, Himbeer oder Erdbeer? which was very odd since Ich sprech nur die Turist- u. Speisekartedeutsch Dialekte.

I didn't bother fixing it (6AM after all) though with the Heinzelmännchen on the job, I should have done!

(It's fixed now!)

Markus did mention about Berliner Weisse's sourness and low alcohol strength - prompted maybe because I was just then tasting Fürst Bismarck for the first (furst?) time... :-> and also told us that the bottled versions of Weisse were very "soft-drink" in look and taste.

(DD suggested it was like an "Alco-pop" and he agreed, I suggested it might taste like a Belgian Frambozen and he said a bit, but far weaker).

He recommended that when we finally got the chance to try it in a Berlin Kneipe we should order draft, and also (not just because we were Irish) that the green version was best.

That was when someone else in the con bar chipped in with a Three-X-Go-Into-A-Bar Joke which you probably know.

Three Germans go into a bar. One's from Berlin, one's from Cologne and one's from Munich. The Berliner orders a Berliner Weisse, the Kölner orders a Kölsch and the Münchener orders a mineral water. The other two ask why, and the Münchener says "Well, since you're not drinking beer I shouldn't either..."

Reinheitsgebot or not, regional beer is serious business in Germany - and seriously regional too, which is why I've yet to find and try a Roggenbier or a Gose.

More for the bucket (or appropriately-shaped glass) list!

[staticl0ve]

For the ask game please and thank you!

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

Hi babe! 🩵✨ Thank you for the ask!

-

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more?

Markus, Markus, Markus. Sigh. Baby boy.

I sort of fell out of love for my Garden of Eden fic. I still think it’s the most…unique story I’ve made cause I saw WandaVision around that time. Plot wise, it’s done, but I always meant to have a fun spicy epilogue and haven’t gone back to write it.

For me, that story was a way to dip my toes into finding a way to write Markus with the same kinda confidence I have for writing Connor or Sixty. I meant to have a Boy Next Door two parter for Markus too and I never got to it.

One day!

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

Oh. Ohohooooo. Frustrated, not quite angry sex but the kind of smut that’s initiated by two people who clearly have the hots for each other but are deeply denying it until the final straw snaps.

This is a common setup I love to use for Nines I’m realizing 🤣 There’s something about a really calm character being absolutely not calm anymore that adds extra heat to the spicy scene.

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

Okay so I ranted about Markus in my other ask.

Not so much a trope, but more… I’d love to see more AUs of the DBH world. Stuff where Connor and Hank aren’t always cops and even if there are androids, how differently can they be presented?

There’s room for an Ex Machina angle or a Westworld angle on machine and human dynamics, heck one can even go full Pinocchio AU where a character is a doll but can’t be real unless…?

-

🍉 Ask me anything! Writer fruit ask! 🍉

[jazzy---j]

Daughter of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief

“even the gods have to bow to fate”

Chapter Summary: A simple game of deadly capture the flag turns into the worst day of Cassie's life.

Masterlist >>> Read on ao3 (8/23)

We Capture A Flag

Believe it or not, the next few days were normal. Normal in the sense that I settled into a routine, not the getting lessons from satyrs, nymphs, and a centaur.

Each morning Percy and I took Ancient Greek from Annabeth, and we talked about the gods and goddesses in the present tense, which was kind of weird. Annabeth was right about our dyslexia: Ancient Greek wasn't that hard for me to read. At least, no harder than English. After a couple of mornings, even Percy could stumble through a few lines of Homer without too much headache.

The rest of the day, we'd both rotate through outdoor activities, looking for something to be good at. Chiron tried to teach us archery, but we found out pretty quickly that we weren't any good with a bow and arrow. He didn't complain, even when he had to de-snag a stray arrow out of his tail.

Foot racing? Not good either. The wood-nymph instructors and Hermes kids left us in the dust.  And wrestling? Forget it. Despite my protests, Percy wouldn't let me go anywhere near the mat with Clarisse. I was left watching from the sidelines as she beat the snot out of my brother as the other Ares kids cheered her on. Markus seemed to be the only one of them that didn't seem to delight in my brother's public humiliation, but he rarely seemed interested in anything at all other than those knives and daggers he constantly was tossing and playing around with.

The only thing we really excelled at was canoeing, and that wasn't the kind of heroic godlike skill that they created myths about.

I knew the senior campers and counselors were watching us both, trying to decide who our dad was, but they weren't having an easy time of it. The fact that we weren't half-siblings, as far as I know, wasn't helping anyone. Apparently, It was rare for siblings to have the same godly parent. But Percy and I looked too alike to be half-siblings. Plus, my mom had only talked about just one guy my entire life.

Either way, I began to rule out our potential fathers. As freakin crazy as that sounds. We both weren't as strong as the Ares kids, or as good at archery as the Apollo kids. I definitely didn't have Hephaestus's skill with metalwork or—gods forbid, Percy stated—Dionysus's way with vine plants. 

Luke tried to treasure us that we might be a child of Hermes, a kind of jack-of-all-trades, master of none. But I knew he was just trying to make us feel better. He really didn't know what to make of us either.

Regardless, I was actually starting to like camp. I was comforted by the morning fog over the beach, the smell of hot strawberry fields in the afternoon, and even the weird noises of monsters in the woods at night. Which was really not that different from the noise in the city. I would eat dinner with my brother and cabin eleven, scrape part of my meal into the fire, and speak to my dad. Day after day, a quick plea to just tell us who he is. Nothing came. Just a warm feeling that Percy talked about sometimes, the memory of his smile. I had never really cared about it before but, to be in the place where he wanted us to go... knowing who he was seemed a little more important than before.

I tried not to think or talk too much about my mom, but Percy kept saying that if gods and monsters were real, if all this magical stuff was possible, surely there was some way to save her, to bring her back. I don't know if that was even possible but I started to understand Luke's bitterness and how he seemed to resent his father, Hermes.

Like yeah, maybe gods had important things to do. But couldn't they call once in a while, or thunder, or something? Dionysus could make Diet Coke appear out of thin air. Why couldn't my dad, whoever he was, make a phone appear? Instead, he showed no sign that he ever existed.

Thursday morning, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I visited the archery range, determined to try again and at least hit the target. I made sure to lug a target to a secluded area deeper into the woods so no one would be able to see all my spectacular failures. This precaution held true as I started to get frustrated when my 7th arrow went wide and landed on the ground nowhere near the target. I had started to pull back my 8th arrow when I heard a rustle in the forest behind me. 

I quickly whipped my head around to peer into the bushes. The noise was probably a drayd that lived in the trees around camp but, I remembered Annabeth talking about the monsters that were sometimes in the woods and my heart started pounding a little faster in my chest. I clutched the bow in my hand tighter and yelled, "Who's there?" 

After a moment of silence, I thought whatever had made that sound moved on but, the sound of a twig snapping proved that something was still there. Fine. If it wasn't gonna come out on its own I was gonna make it. I lifted my bow, pulled back the arrow, and aimed at the noise, saying, "If you don't come out I'll shoot!" 

Slowly someone moved out of the forest line, with their hands up, and into the clearing, "Based on your seven missed shots I don't think I'm in that much danger."

"Markus," I grit out pulling the bow even tighter and aiming for his bored face, "what ar- were you watching me!?" 

He tilted his head in a so-so type of way, "I didn't mean to- could you please put the bow down? Please?" A little bit of unease crept into his voice.

I snorted, "why? I thought I couldn't hit you." "You can't, your form is the worst I've ever seen but an arrow is an arrow and I’d rather it not be pointed at my face," he said plainly. I narrowed my eyes, "Why should I? You and your sister tried to give my brother a swirly!" 

He groaned and threw his head back, "I- I'm sorry about that… sometimes I get caught up in what my siblings are doing… I- I don’t think, ya know? I just do."

I stared at his eyes, usually so guarded, but at this moment steadily looking at me, remorse filled his gaze. But you know what, he had been a total jerk, so I was gonna be a jerk. 

I moved the point of the arrow away from his face, pulled back as far as I could, and let go. He didn't even flinch when the arrow sailed wide of his face and landed in the bushes behind him. But I saw a flash of an emotion I could not recognize in his eyes as I moved to slowly lower the bow and he slowly lowered his hands.

Cooly, he said, "Told you so."

My face burned in embarrassment. Obviously, I missed, everyone knew that would happen but his calm reaction to my tantrum made me feel foolish. Which only fueled my frustration with him. I mean, come on, this guy is being a jerk and not even giving me the basic human decency of a response. How rude is that?

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" I hissed at him.

He didn't respond and just stared. His dark eyes bore into me, searching for something. His stoic expression made me squirm uncomfortably. Two can play at whatever game is going on.

"Why were you watching me?" I asked schooling my face into a measured glare.

His lips quirked at the gesture and continued to study me so curiously that I almost didn't think he heard me. "Why were you following me?!" I stomped my foot angrily in emphasis. He chuckled and began to circle me, finally answering, "Isn't everyone watching you, trying to see what you and your brother can do?"

That didn't really explain why HE was watching me now, or any of the other times really. I tried to follow his movements, keeping my eyes on him, as he paced around me like a shark.

I narrowed my eyes. "That all you got? Dude not only were you just watching me in the bushes like a stalker, but you visited me in the infirmary to what? Talk? I mean seriously what is your problem?"

He stopped circling to firmly stand in front of me, close enough for me to get a whiff of pine from his shirt.

"I sensed your power as soon as you crossed the border. It was... interesting," he paused seeming unsure, "I wanna know if you are a threat to the camp or not. I have never sensed someone as powerful as you or your brother."

I couldn't help but laugh incredulously, "Me and Percy a threat?! Please, I mean we can cause a mess if we want to but like a threat? Ha." Wow, these guys took this medieval stuff seriously. What really bothered me was how he said he could sense my power. Was he saying he could like smell me or something? I sniffed my shirt discreetly as he scowled in my direction.

"This is not a joke. Something is coming and you and your brother are at the center of it," he pressed urgently. 

I rolled my eyes at that, "Oh yeah, and how do you know? Can you tell the future or something?" I mocked.

He stiffened, "thankfully, I do not have that gift but my father did bless me in other ways. I can sorta feel the potential power of demigods or monsters or whoever it is."

His father, the god of war, I remembered. Knowing that, him being some kinda power radar makes sense. Seemed very helpful to be able to immediately size up someone before a fight.

I frowned, "So, what's the plan then? Are you just gonna stalk me forever?" I knew I was being difficult but you know what, this guy was stressing me out. More than before. He was gonna have to be a little nicer if he wanted me to make whatever this conversation was easier for him. 

He closed his eyes and signed, seeming to gather himself, and calmly responded, "No, no I... I want to help you."

I blinked at him dumbly, "Help me?"

He seemed very uncomfortable and very out of his element but continued, "Yeah, like get the hang of camp and everything."

I stared at him for a moment, until it clicked in my head and I gasped, "Oh, ok you wanna be friends?" Nobody has ever actively tried to be my friend before. I was always too much of a bad influence to be invited over to someone's house to play dolls or have a sleepover. Despite myself, I felt a growing bubbling excitement in my stomach.

He frowned and shook his head, "No, no I don't need any friends. I just don't want any weak links walking around," He paused, "Something is coming and we ALL need to be ready."

My excitement dimmed at his confession.

Ouch ok, that stings on multiple levels. But as I began to turn over his words in my head, I realize he was right. Percy and I were so far behind everyone else, I could barely fire an arrow, let alone hit a target. We got lucky with the Minotaur and Mrs. Dodds, it would take a miracle if I wanted to survive in this place. I would need some help.

I sighed and took a deep breath. "Ok, ok, ok why don't we start over, and then we can talk about your advice or whatever? Deal?" I held out my hand for him to shake.

At that moment all time seemed to stand still as we eyed each other warily, on the edge of something new and unfamiliar to both of us. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and shook it.

"Deal."

Markus helped me put away all the archery stuff and we began to awkwardly walk in the direction of the training ring. I knew this guy was not trying to help me just out of the goodness of his heart but I would try to make the best of it. But as I glanced to my left at Markus's intense face I couldn't help but wonder what I had gotten myself into. I wiped my sweaty palms against my jeans. Damn nerves.

We reached the arena just as Percy and the other campers were gathering around the center training ring to start the sword-fighting lesson. I began to feel more and more uneasy as everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be the instructor. If they didn't notice Markus and I show up together then they definitely noticed our closeness as we stood on the side of the ring and were probably wondering if he was holding me captive.

Either that or, why wasn't I out there with Percy skewering the other kids? What they didn't know is that earlier that day when Annabeth took Percy and me to the shed by the armory to pick a weapon, as soon as I touched a sword I got the immediate feeling of wrongness. So strong that I got vertigo. Every weapon in the shed I tried was uncomfortable in my hand. So, no I would not be joining in the wholesome fun today.

They started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armor. For his first day, Percy was doing okay. At least, I think he was, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

The main problem was, that like me, he couldn't find a blade that felt right. I could tell by his face that they were either too heavy, or too light, or too long. Luke was trying his best to help him out but even he agreed that none of the practice blades seemed to work for him.

I glanced over at Markus to see him intently studying everyone in the ring. "Why aren't you up there?" I ask. He didn’t even move his eyes from the ring as he declared, "I practice with all kinds of weapons, but this is not an interdisciplinary class." He paused glancing at me in mild disdain, "but what I'm doing or not doing doesn't matter right now. Watch what's going on now you’re gonna need it later."

I frowned at him because one, he was being rude, and two, I didn't even know what to look for. Nevertheless, I focused my attention back on the ring.

They began to move on to dueling in pairs. Luke announced he would partner with Percy since this was his first time.

Markus nodded, "That's a good matchup." "Why?" I questioned  "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years." My eyes widened, "that's not a good matchup, he is gonna beat the crap out of him!" He shrugged, "best way to learn is to be thrown to the wolves."

I very much disagreed with that.  "Maybe he'll go easy on him," I said. Markus gave me a side eye that said he didn't believe that for one second.

Luke showed Percy thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way.

With every swipe, he got a little more battered and bruised. "Keep your guard up, Percy," Luke said, then whapped him in the ribs with the flat of his blade.

"No, not that far up!" Whap! "Lunge!" Whap! "Now, back!" Whap!

I winced at every blow. By the time he called a break, Percy was soaked in sweat. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water on his head.

I bounded over to Percy waiting his turn, "Dude, are you ok? You're kinda getting pummeled out there."

Percy gave me a wild look like he can't believe I just said that. "Yuh, think?" Percy exclaimed out of breath as he reached down in the cooler copying Luke and pouring ice water over his face. 

Instantly, his eyes seemed more alert than before and his sword didn't look so awkward in his hands.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you a little demo." Great, I thought. Let's all watch Percy get pounded some more.

The Hermes guys gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in Percy's position before and this was some sort of stupid initiation ritual. Luke told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon. "This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

He demonstrated the move on Percy in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of my brother's hand.

"Now in real-time," he said after Percy had retrieved his weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?"

I held my breath as Percy nodded, and Luke came after him. Somehow, Percy kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of his sword.

My eyes widened as they sparred. It was turning out to be a real match with Percy seeing his attacks coming and countering. He even was stepping forward and tried out a few thrusts of his own. Luke deflected it easily, but I saw the change in his face. His eyes narrowed, and he started to press Percy with more force.

I saw the look on my brother's face and could tell he knew that it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took him down.

His only option was to throw caution to the wind and try the disarming maneuver. His blade hit the base of Luke's and he twisted, leaning his whole weight into a downward thrust.

Clang.

Luke's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of Percy's blade was an inch from his undefended chest.

The other campers were silent. I was silent. I couldn't believe it worked.

Percy lowered his sword, looking around at everyone staring at him, and muttered, "Um, sorry." For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.

"Sorry?" His scarred face broke into a grin. "By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry? Show me that again!"

Percy looked hesitant. But Luke insisted.

This time, there was really no contest. The moment their swords connected, Luke hit Percy's hilt and sent his weapon skidding across the floor.

After a long pause, somebody in the audience said, "Beginner's luck?"

Luke wiped the sweat off his brow. He appraised my brother with an entirely new interest. Like he was this new variable that he had never considered until now. Something about that rubbed me the wrong way.

"Maybe," he said. "But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword... ."

I looked around the ring back to where I left Markus. But there was no one there.

Friday afternoon, I was sitting with Percy and Grover at the lake, resting from a near-death experience on the climbing wall. Grover had scampered to the top like a mountain goat, but the lava had almost gotten Percy. His shirt had smoking holes in it, and the hairs had been singed off his forearms. 

I, on the other hand, had to visit the burn ward in the healer's tent to get my leg bandaged. We sat on the pier, watching the naiads do underwater basket-weaving until Percy got up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr. D. His face turned a sickly shade of yellow.

"Fine," he said. "Just great."

"So your career's still on track?" Percy sounded hopeful, but I knew better. Based on what Chiron said I don't think it would be so simple.

He glanced at us nervously. "Chiron t-told you I want a searcher's license?"

"Well... no." I nudged Percy to stop talking. I had no idea what a searcher's license was, but it didn't seem like the right time to ask.

"He just said you had big plans, you know," I chimed in "... and that you needed credit for completing a keeper's assignment. So did you get it?"

Grover looked down at the naiads. "Mr. D suspended judgment. He said I hadn't failed or succeeded with you yet, so our fates were still tied together. If you got a quest and I went along to protect you, and we both came back alive, then maybe he'd consider the job complete."

I let out a huge breath. "Well, that's not so bad, right?"

"Blaa-ha-ha! He might as well have transferred me to stable-cleaning duty. The chances of either of you getting a quest... and even if you did, why would you want me along?"

"Of course, we'd want you along!" Percy exclaimed. I nodded my head in agreement.

Grover stared glumly into the water. "Basket-weaving ... Must be nice to have a useful skill." Percy tried to reassure him that he had lots of talents, but that just made him look more miserable. I wisely kept my mouth shut, knowing nothing I could say would do much.

I changed the subject and we talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the different gods and who our dad could be. 

Finally, I asked a question that had been bothering me since we got here, "So, what's the deal with the empty cabins? Are those campers not here yet or something?"

"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad."

"Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?" I press. Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject. "No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos."

"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades," Percy chimed in.

"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what."

"Zeus got the sky," I remembered. "Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld."

"Uh-huh," Grover affirms.

Percy furrowed his brows, "But wait, Hades doesn't have a cabin here."

"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that."

"Well that doesn't seem very fair," I exclaim, "aren't they a family?"

Grover looks at me a little funny, "Not that kind of family."

I considered his words. Yeah, I guess he was right, I mean all we talked about in Mr. Brunner's Latin class was how the gods were not that kind of family. They were always backstabbing, marrying, or generally causing chaos for each other and the world. Of course, they would leave out the weird emo brother, just cause.

Percy still wasn't satisfied with that answer, "but Zeus and Poseidon—they both had, like, a bazillion kids in the myths. Why are their cabins empty?" 

Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, that was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed.

Percy muttered, "That's the most serious oath you can make, right?" Grover nodded.

"And the brothers kept their word—no kids?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo—he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia... well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."

"But that isn't fair.' It wasn't the little girl's fault," Percy grabbed my hand as if he was afraid I was going to disappear.

Grover hesitated. "Percy, Cassie, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur. "All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

I stared at the pine in the distance. The story was one of the saddest things I had ever heard. A girl my age had sacrificed herself to save her friends. She had faced a whole army of monsters. How could her dad have let that just happen to her? If that's what demigods were up against I didn't know if I could live up to it.

I also wondered if I'd been a little bit braver like Thalia, maybe I could have saved my mother.

"Grover," Percy said carefully, "have heroes really gone on quests to the Underworld?"

"Sometimes," he said. "Orpheus. Hercules. Houdini." "Houdini?!" I questioned in surprise. Grover shrugged as if to say, yeah I guess.

"And have they ever returned somebody from the dead?" Percy pushed. "No. Never. Orpheus came close... Percy, you're not seriously thinking—"

"No," Percy quickly responded,  "I was just wondering." I gave him a bewildered look. Was he suggesting that we go to the Underworld!?

"So... a satyr is always assigned to guard a demigod?" Percy continued ignoring my stare. Grover studied us warily. What a surprise Percy's very obvious lie, hadn't persuaded him that he'd really dropped the Underworld idea. Shocker.

"Not always. We go undercover to a lot of schools. We try to sniff out the half-bloods who have the makings of great heroes. If we find one with a very strong aura, like a child of the Big Three, we alert Chiron. He tries to keep an eye on them since they could cause really huge problems."

Whoa, wait for a second, he alerted Chiron because our dad might be one of the Big Three? With the story of Thalia still fresh in my mind I was in disbelief that our luck could be that bad.

"And you found us. Chiron said you thought we might be something special," Percy said dryly as he started to piece it together as well.

Grover looked as if we'd just led him into a trap. "I didn't... Oh, listen, don't think like that. If you were—you know—you'd never ever be allowed a quest, and I'd never get my license. You're probably a child of Hermes. Or maybe even one of the minor gods, like Nemesis, the god of revenge. Don't worry, okay?"

Heck no, I was worried. I just wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure himself or us.

That night after dinner, there was a lot more excitement than usual.

At last, it was time for capture the flag. I was trying the psych myself up for the game and ignore the nervous butterflies in my stomach.

When the plates were cleared away, the conch horn sounded and we all stood at our tables. Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening gray, with a painting of a barn owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse, Markus and their siblings ran in screaming and going wild, carrying another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a boar's head.

Percy turned to Luke and yelled over the noise, "Those are the flags?"

"Yeah." "Ares and Athena always lead the teams?" "Not always," he said. "But often."

Made sense, god of war vs. goddess of war.

"So, if another cabin captures one, what do you do—repaint the flag?" I questioned

He grinned. "You'll see. First, we have to get one."

"Whose side are we on?" He gave Percy and me a sly look as if he knew something we didn't. The scar on his face made him look almost evil in the torchlight. He was a lot more intimidating in the dark I realized. "We've made a temporary alliance with Athena. Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And you are going to help."

The teams were announced. Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two biggest cabins. Apparently, privileges had been traded—shower times, chore schedules, the best slots for activities—in order to win support.

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus. I wish I'd paid more attention, instead of being in my head all the time but, from what I'd seen, Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them.

Demeter's kids had the edge with nature skills and outdoor stuff but they weren't very aggressive. Aphrodite's sons and daughters I wasn't too worried about it. They mostly sat out every activity and checked their reflections in the lake and did their hair and gossiped. Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day. They might be a problem. That, of course, left Ares'scabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet. Markus caught my eye in the chaos of his siblings jumping around and gave me an unimpressed look.

Markus's offer to help me get the rundown on camp had started a couple of days ago. He first gave me a basic lesson on camp dynamics and a spear lesson. It was going great, if great is getting my ass kicked.

"I heard Chiron gave you Stormbreaker?" He said to me on our first day in the ring. He gestured to the bracelet cuff on my wrist.

"Um, yeah I guess," I mumbled.

"Do you know how to activate it?" He questioned as he scanned over the spears on the rack and began weighing them in his hand to find a good fit.

"Activate? You mean turn it from a snake to the spear thingy?" I responded. He turned to me having finally found a good enough spear. He frowned at me and rolled his eyes as if I couldn't be serious. "First of all, it's not a snake it's a sea serpent, supposedly the one that Perseus killed on his second quest trying to save the princess, Andromeda, Second if I'm gonna teach you how to fight with weapons I need you to be serious." 

I nodded embarrassed. He rolled his eyes again and sauntered over to me grabbing my wrist. He was so close I could see all of the faint scars on his hands. I squirmed, uncomfortable with him in my personal space. He clicked the eyes of the serpent and it began to loosen and uncoil itself down my wrist. Eventually straightening and lengthening into a 5ft bronze spear with silver detailing twining up the shaft just like before in the museum.

It was surprisingly light and comfortable in my hand, but I could tell the tip was sharp enough to do some serious damage.

Markus looked a little awed himself but quickly shook it off and was back to his scowling self. He began by showing me a few motions and explained how spears differ from other weapons. "It's like dancing, you put your whole body into it." It was all going really well until we actually began to duel. Whenever I left my flank open he would smack me with the flat of the spear tip. I let my guard down, whap! I swing with only my arm, whap! By the end of our session, I was bruised and sore all over.

As I lay on my back in the center of the ring, sweat soaking my shirt, I groaned, "Aren't boys not supposed to hit girls?" Markus signed and walked over to me. In a rare display of vulnerability he leaned over my face to make eye contact, "Look I know I'm going hard on you but I'm not sorry. Monsters won't be sorry or hesitate, they will kill you. You're a demigod it's time to start acting like it."

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble, bringing me back to the present. 

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, and oxhide shields coated in metal.

"Whoa," Percy said. "We're really supposed to use these?"

Luke looked at him as if he were crazy. "Unless you want to get skewered by your friends in cabin five. Here—Chiron thought these would fit you two. You'll be on border patrol."

Percy's shield was the size of an NBA backboard, with a big caduceus in the middle, and looked like it weighed about a million pounds.  I was given a slightly smaller shield but it was still heavy as hell. I hoped nobody seriously expected me to run fast.

Our helmets, like all the helmets on Athena's side, had a blue horsehair plume on top. Ares and their allies had red plumes. Luke moved to hand me a sword that I knew wouldn't feel right in my hands. I looked down at my wrist, the serpent's maw looking like it would devour my middle finger as it wound around my arm. Here goes nothing I thought as I clicked the serpent's eye and it came alive to form the spear. It activated so suddenly that I had to quickly move it out of the way so I didn't skewer Luke.

"Whoa, there," he said surprised, "Cassie did not come to play today!" His loud voice attracted the attention of nearly everyone around us. Especially the Ares kids who now looked at me like a personal challenge. Markus was as always frowning and staring but this time not at me but at Luke. Still, my face burned at the attention as Percy helped me put on the rest of my gear.

Annabeth yelled, "Blue team, forward!"

We cheered and shook our swords and followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team yelled taunts at us as they headed off toward the north.

Percy managed to catch up with Annabeth, but I was struggling a bit on account of my microscopic height.

"So much for sticking together, huh?" Luke said.

I hadn't noticed he had slowed down to jog next to me.

"Huh," I said loudly. He motioned ahead to Percy jogging alongside Annabeth. "Ummm yeah, I guess," I said noncommittally, "I mean he should make friends other than me and Grover." He smiled at me in a pitying way like he thought I was lying to myself. Like he could see something I couldn't. That agitated me a little bit. "Sure. Anyways don't worry about border patrol. It's an easy job and pretty boring, you and Percy won't have to do much this game. I'll see if next time after a bit more training we can get you a little more in on the action."

My agitation eased a bit at that. Who was I kidding Luke was just trying to look out for me. Help out the new girl who clearly didn't know what she was doing. Still, I picked up the pace to catch up with Percy and Annabeth, leaving Luke behind.

"So what's the plan?" I heard Percy ask her as I reached them, "Got any magic items you can loan me?" Annabeth's hand drifted toward her pocket as if she were afraid he'd stolen something.

"Just watch Clarisse's spear," she said. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

"Border patrol, whatever that means," I puffed out already out of breath. My helmet was too big and falling over my eyes as I ran. I had to keep reaching up to fix it.

"It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan."

She pushed ahead, leaving us in the dust.

"Okay," Percy mumbled sarcastically. "Glad you wanted us on your team." He turned to me, "Stay close Cassie." And then he jogged faster into the woods.

I grumbled to myself still out of breath, "kinda hard to do that when you're running away." I struggled to catch up with him. It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. Annabeth stationed us next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees.

Standing there with just Percy, with my big blue-feathered helmet and my huge shield, I felt incredibly ridiculous. I barely know how to use this big ass spear, and the shield I was carrying was weighing down my arm. How was I supposed to do this? 

"There was no way anybody would actually attack us, would they? I mean, Olympus had to have liability issues, right?" Percy said. I knew it was supposed to be a joke but I could hear the tinge of nervousness in his voice.

"Awwww, are you scared Percy?" I teased even though I had to set down my spear and wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans.

He scowled at me and ignored me, turned back to watching the woods. Far away, the conch horn blew. I heard whoops and yells in the woods, the clanking of metal, and kids fighting. A blue-plumed ally from Apollo raced past me like a deer, leaped through the creek, and disappeared into enemy territory.

Great, I thought. I'll miss all the fun, as usual.

Then I heard a sound that sent a chill up my spine, a low canine growl, somewhere close by.

"Percy..." I started. He didn't answer me but he must have heard it too because his eyes immediately began to dart around. "Get behind me," he said and shifted in front of me.

I raised my shield instinctively and quickly snatched my spear from the ground; I had this feeling that something was stalking us. Then the growling stopped. I felt the presence retreating.

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Four Ares warriors came yelling and screaming out of the dark. "Cream the punks!" Clarisse screamed.

Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long spear similar to mine, but its barbed metal tip was flickering with red light. The way she held it while she ran to us, confident and sure there was no doubt she could use it way better than me. Her siblings had only the standard-issue bronze swords—not that that made me feel any better.

They charged across the stream and there was no help in sight. We could run. Or we could defend against the Ares cabin. We've done it before. Quickly Percy and I looked at each other knowingly. Anticipation tingled in my arms and legs. Maybe we could do this, maybe this would be like the scraps and fights we got into at school that we always managed to survive.

We both sidestepped the first kid's swing, similar to the days before. Percy going right and me going left, but these guys were not as stupid as the Minotaur.

Three of them broke off and managed to surround me, separating me from Percy and Clarisse. Who thrust at my brother with her spear. His shield deflected the point, but his body stiffened, jerking a bit as his muscles visibly constricted. He gave a loud shout. 

Electricity, I realized as the air around us burned. Her stupid spear was electric.

I wanted to help Percy but the kids around me seemed not too keen to let me.  My confidence quickly dissipated as we were separated. Another Ares guy slammed me in the chest with the butt of his sword and knocked the wind right out of me. I doubled over and wheezed out a couple of curses that would make a nun blush, searching the three faces around me, all of them sneering kids looking delighted to beat the absolute shit out of me. Markus's stoic face was not among them. Thank god. I don't think I could handle that guy's attitude right now.

They could've really given me a beatdown, but they were too busy laughing at Percy and Clarisse. This was quickly spiraling out of control.

"I think I'll give him a haircut," Clarisse said. "What do you say, boys?"

I turned to watch as Percy managed to get to his feet and raise his sword, but Clarisse slammed it aside with her spear as sparks flew in the night. I grabbed my spear and scooted backward trying to get my bearings while the three Ares kids were distracted.

"Oh, wow," Clarisse said. "I'm scared of this guy. Really scared."

"The flag is that way," I told her. I wanted to sound intimidating, but I was afraid it didn't come out that way. She barely gave me a glance. Her entire focus was on Percy trying to lift his sword.

"Yeah," one of her siblings said. "But see, we don't care about the flag. We care about the two kids who made our cabin look stupid." The three begin to circle me backing me up farther away from Percy.

I finally got to my feet with my spear clutched in one hand and my shield discarded somewhere in the distance. "You didn't need us to make your cabin look stupid," I told them, "Your entire existence made that possible." It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say but, I didn't care I was pissed off.

The guy on my left, enraged raised his sword and swung down toward me in a mighty arc. I raised my spear horizontally with both hands blocking his strike. We had reached the edge of the creek, water lapping at my feet and soaking the cuffs of my pants. I looked down at his wide stance and in a desperate thought, moved my leg behind his and pulled. Throwing him off balance, he lost control and fell back into the shallow bank of the creek.

The other two of them looked down at him shocked. Allowing me a little time to look over at Percy and Clarisse dueling farther down the bank of the creek.  Percy backed up toward the water, trying to raise and use his shield, but Clarisse was too fast. Her spear stuck him straight in the ribs. If he hadn't been wearing an armored breastplate, he would've been shish-ke-babbed. But I could tell by his face that the electrical shock was definitely doing some damage.

I started to move towards him down the bank of the creek but I all of a sudden felt a burning pain done the length of my shoulder blade to my elbow. One of the Ares kids snuck up behind me and slashed his sword across my arm, leaving a good- size cut. I fell forward, splashing into the warm water of the creek. At the last second, I was able to catch myself from slamming face-first into the rocky bed of the creek.

I stared at my dirty reflection in the water as it changed from a clear dark blue to a deep crimson as the water washed the blood from my wound into the creek.

Seeing my own blood made me dizzy—warm and cold at the same time. "N-no maiming," I whimpered.

"Oops," the guy said. "Guess I lost my dessert privilege."

He shoved me down with his boot and I splashed around trying to get away. They all laughed. 

"Awww, look she's gonna cry," one of them mocked, "are you gonna cry?" Let's be honest, I was gonna cry. 

Not because I was scared but because I was frustrated. Ever since we got here everything has been trying to kill us. All because of a dad we never knew. My entire life had been dictated by a guy who never even came to see me. Who maybe doesn't even know I exist? The thought filled me with such anger that I could barely even hear the Ares kids bellowing laughter. Who cares, I figured as soon as they were through being amused, I would die. But then something happened.

The water seemed to wake up my senses as if I'd just had a bag of my mom's double-espresso jelly beans. It also fueled my anger.

I looked over at Percy and he seemed to feel what I was feeling. We locked eyes as Percy began treading water to get to me. Clarisse and her cabinmates finally came fully into the creek to finish us off, as Percy reached me and helped me up.  We stood together to meet them. We knew what to do and I wasn't afraid anymore. 

Percy moved forward and swung the flat of his sword against the first guy's head and knocked his helmet clean off. He hit him so hard I could see his eyes vibrating as he crumpled into the water. Ugly Number Two and Ugly Number Three came at me. But I had retrieved my spear from the water and slammed the shaft of it into one's face. Next, I turned to use the blade to shear off the other guy's horsehair plume. Both of them backed up quick.

But Clarisse kept coming, the point of her spear crackling with energy. As soon as she thrust, Percy caught the shaft between the edge of his shield and sword and snapped it like a twig.

"Ah!" she screamed. "You idiot! You corpse-breath worm!"

She probably would've said worse, but  Percy smacked her between the eyes with his sword butt and sent her stumbling backward out of the creek.

Then I heard yelling, and elated screams, and I saw Luke racing toward the boundary line with the red team's banner lifted high. He was flanked by a couple of Hermes kids covering his retreat, and a few Apollos behind them, fighting off the Hephaestus kids.

The Ares folks got up, and Clarisse muttered a dazed curse. "A trick!" she shouted. "It was a trick."

They staggered after Luke, but it was too late. Everybody converged on the creek as Luke ran across into friendly territory. Our side exploded into cheers. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

The game was over. We'd won.

My heart was still pumping and blood was still roaring in my ears from the adrenalin still raging through my body. Unable to understand that it was over. I was startled when Annabeth's voice, right next to us in the creek, said, "Not bad, heroes."

I saw Percy look around, but she wasn't there.

"Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?" she asked. The air shimmered, and she materialized, holding a Yankees baseball cap as if she'd just taken it off her head.

I looked over at Percy cause I was honestly still confused and a bit dazed. Was she just invisible? I mean it shouldn't have fazed me but still.

"You set us up," Percy gritted out. "You put us here because you knew Clarisse would come after us, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out."

Annabeth shrugged. "I told you. Athena always has a plan."

"A plan to get us pulverized," I muttered warily.

"I came as fast as I could. I was about to jump in, but..." She shrugged. "You didn't need help."

Then she noticed Percy's wounded arm. Her brows were drawn together and she frowned. "How did you do that?"

I noted her reaction and turned to look at his arm. What I was expecting was a gnarly-looking half-burned cut, but my eyes widened at what I saw instead. 

"Sword cut," he said distractedly looking at the ongoing cheering and commotion of our fellow teammates. "What do you think?"

"No. It was a sword cut. Look at it."

He similarly to us looked down and was shocked to see the blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch, and even that was fading. As we all watched, it turned into a small scar and disappeared.

"I—I don't get it,"  Percy said.

I was barely able to form the thought before I dropped my spear and scrabbled to try and look at my shoulder and the corresponding cut. It was a strain to crane my neck but I eventually saw the wound. Or I would have if it was still there. Similar to my brother all the blood was gone and only a faint slightly larger scar was left on my shoulder blade. What the hell?

Annabeth was thinking hard. I could almost see the gears turning. She looked down at Percy's feet, then at Clarisse's broken spear, and said, "Step out of the water, Percy."

"What—"

"Just do it."

Percy looked at me cautiously before treading closer to the bank and finally stepping out of the water. I followed him but stopped right at the bank staying where the water still lapped at my feet.

As he came out of the creek it was like all his energy immediately left. He almost fell over, but Annabeth and I rushed out of the water to steady him. But it's kinda hard to steady someone when your strength immediately leaves you as well. 

I ended up having to lean on Percy and Annabeth so I didn't face plant on the gravel. I suddenly felt like I needed to take several naps.

"Oh, Styx," Annabeth cursed. "This is not good. I didn't want... I assumed it would be Zeus..."

I looked up at her through droopy eyelids. She didn't look like a confident kick-your-ass Annabeth anymore. Her brown skin had got ashen.

Before I could ask what she meant, I heard that canine growl again, but much closer than before. A howl ripped through the forest. Percy still a bit sluggish gripped my arm protectively, eyes frantically searching for the source of the noise like many of the campers still on alert.

The campers' cheering died instantly. Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek, which I would realize, later, I had understood perfectly: "Stand ready! My bow!" Annabeth drew her sword.

There on the rocks just above us was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers.

It was looking straight at us,

Nobody moved except Annabeth, who yelled, "Percy, Cassie, run!"

She tried to step in front of us, but the hound was too fast. It leaped over her—an enormous shadow with teeth—and just as it was about to collide with us everything seemed to move in slow motion as Percy pushed me to the side, out of the way.

I could barely open my mouth to scream, as I flew backward in the water I saw its razor-sharp claws ripping through my brother's armor. There was a cascade of thwacking sounds like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other. From the hound's neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell dead at my brother's feet. Time resumed its normal pace.

Instantly on my feet, I rushed over to Percy, at this point too shell-shocked by the night's events to even cry. I aggressively kicked the hide of the hellhound aside as I ran past its corpse to crash so hard on my knees by my brother that my teeth shook.

"Percy, Percy!," I screamed trying to get a better look at him. By some miracle, Percy was still alive. I didn't want to look underneath the ruins of his shredded armor. I could see the red color staining all over his shirt and I knew he was badly cut. Another second, and the monster would've turned him into a hundred pounds of delicatessen meat. 

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim.

"Di immortales!" Annabeth said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't... they're not supposed to..." "Someone summoned it," Chiron said. "Someone inside the camp."

I looked back over at the bank to see a gruff-looking Luke come over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone. As I looked at the shocked and fearful faces of the campers around us I caught a glimpse of Markus. His face was shadowed by this red-plumed war helmet but I could guess that he also had a grim look on his face at the scene before him. I noted that he had a bow strung in his hand.

In the distance, Clarisse yelled, "It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!"

I shot her the nastiest look to ever be thrown. The hell he did, I wanted to scream.

"Be quiet, child," Chiron told her. We watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared. "You're wounded," Annabeth breathed out. "Quick, Cassie, get him in the water." "I'm okay," he said still a bit stunned.

"No, you're not," she said. "Chiron, watch this."

I think I was understanding what Annabeth was trying to get at. I gripped Percy's arm to help him up and said, "It's okay Percy just trust us." He nodded and I helped him stumble back into the creek, the whole camp gathering around us. 

Instantly, I felt better. No more fatigue and I stopped shaking from the fear. I felt strength and a sort of calm pulse through me. I looked down and could see the cuts on Percy's chest closing up. I stepped away as he straightened up feeling the same surge of energy that I did. Some of the campers gasped.

"Look, I—I don't know why," Percy said, trying to apologize. "I'm sorry...."

But they weren't watching his wounds heal. They were staring at something above his head. 

"Percy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um..." By the time Percy and I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident. But it was clearly only above his head.

"Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is really not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced. He stepped forward glancing my way in pity.

All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. Markus's eyes felt like a burn on my skin as he lowered his head along with them.

"Our father?" I asked, completely bewildered. Still not getting it.

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

And that's when I finally understood what had happened.

My dad didn't claim me.

to be continued...

[pickledpascal]

You're Not Alone in This World

Chapter Seven

Warnings: bombs, android gore, violence, self-doubt

Word Count: 2.2k

You're Not Alone in This World Masterlist

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"10-80, I repeat, 10-80!"

Well, shit.

Andrea was in the middle of watching Markus’ speech in the precinct break room when it happened. A bombing on national television. She could feel the tremor in the ground as soon as it went off. These anti-android protestors were getting braver by the day. There were a few officers at the scene but it proved to be unhelpful. These humans had no regard for life, android or human. It disgusted Andrea.

As she arrived on the scene, everything was chaotic. Debris and smoke were everywhere, first responders were trying to get people to safety, and some androids had already shut off. They must’ve been too close to the blast. The anti-android humans seemed to be celebrating a victory. Andrea’s eyes zeroed in on them. She’d deal with them later. She had to get these people to safety first. She hauled an android to their feet, guiding them to where she saw some other officers take them.

“Andrea, we haven’t been able to find Markus!” North yelled as soon as she saw her. She helped Andrea carry the android, setting her down by the curb to be taken care of by an android medic. “Those humans…” She seethed.

It wasn’t surprising to Andrea that this was a coordinated attack. She looked through the smoke, narrowing her eyes at the all–too–happy humans. The other founders of Jericho were fine, just a bit dirty from the explosion. Markus was the only one missing. He was most likely going to be held captive as a trophy for a while until they decided to kill him.

Simon let out a breath, his eyes full of sadness. “If they kill him…”

“I know.” Andrea whispered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “He’ll be safe. You have my word.” She turned to run into the smoke.

Farther in the smoke, Andrea could see just how much devastation they caused. Parts of androids were strewn about, thirium still leaking. Hell, it was gushing. She pursed her lips. The sight was starting to get to her. Her gaze scanned her area each time she took a few steps further. She’d much rather just kill these assholes but that’d look horrible on her record. Maybe if she made it look like an accident? Her jaw clenched as she heard a few cheers. They were close by. Andrea glanced down at her gun which sat in her holster. A stun bullet was hardly good enough for them. She couldn’t let them get away without a single scratch. Her fists began to glow a bright white as she inched closer. There was still a haze around them but Andrea could clearly see the silhouette of four humans and Markus. He had thirium running down his nose and a few patches of blue on his suit. Gunshot wounds.

Andrea took in a sharp breath through her nose. Anger was an emotion she didn’t feel often. The seething, red-hot feeling of hating something with your entire being wasn’t something she enjoyed. She might have even despised it. But in this instance, she couldn’t help herself. Markus has done nothing but be peaceful even when his own people were dying right before his eyes.

She couldn’t help herself. Andrea tapped one of the men’s shoulders and then punched him square in the jaw. He was knocked out in an instant. The other three turned to shoot at her. She hadn’t expected the bullets to hurt. She blinked, glancing from the pool of purple starting at her shoulder to the guns they had. They seemed normal… Andrea blocked the other bullets with shields of moonlight. One man tried to punch her as she got closer but she used him as leverage to kick another in the throat. He took a gasp of air before he fell to the floor.

One vs. two.

Andrea threw one of them into the ground while she shot a beam of light to knock out the last man. They all looked thoroughly beaten, blood and bruises all over their faces. Exactly what they deserved. Andrea took a few deep breaths, lungs unphased by the smoke. She turned to Markus who had wide eyes.

“Are you RA9?” He asked as Andrea helped him to stand. Thankfully, the bullets didn’t hit anything vital. Leave it to the humans to be blissfully ignorant about people they hate.

Andrea shook her head as her heart rate went back down to its normal level. “No.” She wrapped an arm around Markus’ shoulder, giving him a sad smile. If she was RA9, she’d feel a lot worse than she already did.

She knew there was this whole “world balance” thing that she was meant to protect no matter what but this… how could she stand by and let this happen? Humans were fighting against people who just wanted to be free. That wasn’t justice. Quite the opposite.

Once they stepped out of the smoke, Simon ran to take Markus from Andrea. Markus glanced back at her and nodded at her in thanks. Simon fussed over him just like anyone would if their loved one was captured by people who wanted to kill them. Andrea glanced around and sighed. She had the nagging feeling that she could’ve stopped this. Innocent androids were dying. Others were in agony. They were in pain or sobbing because their loved ones were caught too close to the bomb. Dead. In pieces. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the power to rewind time. That was Chronos’ field.

Andrea was enveloped in a tight hug before she was pushed away again. “You’re bleeding.” Connor’s eyes were worried as he shoved off her jacket and pulled down the collar of her shirt enough to expose the wound.

That was interesting. Andrea was still bleeding. That wasn’t supposed to happen. “Huh.” She hummed as she started to feel dizzy.

Connor’s eyes widened as he kept her upright with a hand on her waist. He glanced around and sat Andrea on the back of a truck. “Andrea, I’m going to need to tear off your sleeve. Is that okay?” She simply nodded. Andrea could hear the stitches of her shirt tearing apart. And she could feel the tight pressure being applied to her arm but everything she saw was fuzzy. Dark spots clouded her vision. “Andrea! Hey, Andrea!” Connor’s voice sounded far away…

—----

Waking up with her arm in a sling wasn’t the best feeling in the world. Andrea groaned as she sat up, rubbing her fingers in between her eyebrows as her vision started to clear and took in her surroundings. She was in bed. Her bed.

“Finally awake, my fengári.” Andrea’s head whipped up. Poseidon sat at the foot of her bed. Instead of his usual armor, he wore a simple t-shirt and jeans. She would have laughed if it didn’t hurt to move. “For a second, I thought a simple bullet was all it took.”

Andrea rolled her eyes, “You know it takes more than that, brother.” She glanced at the sling on her arm. She loved her brother dearly but he had no idea what to do when someone was hurt. How to care of them. That was more of Hygieia and Asclepius’ area. Poseidon thought that simply dunking a patient in water would work well enough. Sometimes he forgot he was the only god of the ocean. Somehow. “Something was in that bullet.”

As if on cue, her door opened to reveal Connor. “I analyzed it. The bullet is made of the same metal as your hairpin. It didn’t go through your shoulder, which is likely why you passed out.” For the first time ever, Andrea saw his hair out of place. It was messy and even his clothes were wrinkled, creased all over. His LED, too. She could tell the yellow hadn’t spun to blue in a while. It surprised her.

“Either a God has been giving it to the humans or a human has the means of making it on Earth. Either way, this could become a catastrophe.” Poseidon pursed his lips as he watched Andrea for a reaction. “I will have a talk with Zeus and see if anyone else has been visiting Earth recently.”

She had a feeling something bigger was at play. There still was no exact explanation. How could Olympian metal come to Earth in the first place? How could any human find a way to produce it? There were very few relics on the planet with true power but those should be almost impossible for any human to get to. Andrea bit the inside of her cheek. As far as she knew, her fellow Gods had no ill will against androids. At most, they were indifferent.

Poseidon stood and pressed a kiss to Andrea’s cheek. “Knowing you, you’ll be healed within the hour. I’ll see you as soon as I find out anything.” He smiled reassuringly before he turned to leave. He patted Connor’s shoulder as he exited her room.

Andrea cocked an eyebrow as Connor sat by her side. “Getting comfortable with my brother?” She teased softly.

Connor looked up from his lap and smiled softly. He lifted a hand to her cheek and caressed her jaw with his thumb. “It’s hard not to. Especially when we’re both worried about you.” He whispered like it pained him to admit such a thing. He didn’t think he had to worry about Andrea dying. Even without her healing ability, statistically, Connor knew Andrea would survive a simple gunshot to the shoulder but seeing her get hurt… it hurt him.

Andrea leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed for a second. She knew his skin was synthetic but it felt just as real as any other human’s. For sure the most advanced prototype Cyberlife had ever created.

For the first time in while, Connor’s LED flickered to its calm blue. “I let Captain Fowler know you needed at least two days of leave. He agreed fairly quickly.”

“Why?” Andrea’s eyebrows furrowed. Sure, she had a wound on her shoulder but that would heal fine. And make for a cool new scar.

Connor sighed as he turned on the TV. To the news channel. Andrea glanced from Connor to the TV, confused. The camera showed smoke clearing at the place of the bombing and a newscaster in the middle of the frame. “We are currently at the scene where an anti-android bombing took place earlier during Markus Manfred’s speech today. Police have said the protestors took Markus captive and held him until Lieutenant Andrea Cartier arrived at the scene. She took down the protestors and got Markus to safety. Some believe he wouldn’t have survived without her. Even more intriguing is that androids on the scene swore they saw an unnatural white light come from within the smoke a few minutes before Lieutenant Cartier emerged with Markus. Could we be witnessing the presence of another form of intelligent, powerful life? Or are androids just as susceptible to seeing things as humans?”

“Well, shit.” Andrea sighed. Suddenly, a few days off seemed like a wonderful idea. “Fuck.” Humans weren’t supposed to know. No one was. She let her emotions get the best of her and now… people knew. “Fuck!” She repeated, feeling tears starting to well in her eyes.

Connor wrapped his arms around her, being careful around her shoulder. “It’s alright, love. Everything is gonna be alright.” He whispered. He didn’t like seeing Andrea cry. But it was a hell of a lot better than bottling it up until she exploded on an unexpecting rookie who was just trying to do their job. Connor brushed away the hairs in Andrea’s face and kissed her forehead.

Reading her body language indicated she felt guilty. All this power and the only android she could save was Markus. Arguably, that was a good thing but Connor couldn’t imagine the weight she felt on her shoulders. The weight that she put there all by herself.

“You know you can’t save everyone.” Connor had to learn that himself from Hank. He reminded him every time he knew the guilt was starting to eat away at him. Every time a killer got away when Connor knew he was only missing one thing. One thing.

Andrea rubbed at her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, “The difference is I’m supposed to.” She looked away from Connor.

Connor lifted his hand to her chin and turned her head to look at him. “What do you think I was made for? To fail?” Andrea pursed her lips, realizing he was right. “I was made with the very idea of success ingrained in my wires. Don’t you think my creators were disappointed when they found out I failed? That their creation failed over and over again? They wanted to disassemble me.” He held her face so gingerly, so lovingly. He couldn’t help himself. “Hank told me a part of being human is failing. You can’t go back in time, my dear, but I wish you could.” He smiled sadly.

Andrea buried her face in Connor’s shoulder, closing her eyes as she took a breath. “What did I do to deserve you?” She murmured, running her good hand down the base of his neck.

“I’d like to think it’s simply because of your existence.” Connor hummed, his LED flashing pink as he held Andrea close. He was starting to get used to that warm hue.

[vampcubus]

So, like, out of nowhere, I got an idea and then I saw your requests were open so AAAAAAH I had to come and give you an ask. Anyway— Only if you can, could you write headcanons for DBH Connor, Markus, Rupert, Simon and Ralph with, like, different ways you make them smile? Gender neutral reader maybe? Obv you don’t have to include all the characters, I’d be excited just to see you responded to me, but I was just feeling a good vibe today and felt like popping in for a hot second LOVE YOU sorry if this was kinda all over the place, I’m running off of 2 hours of sleep, McDonald’s and a Pepsi.

HOW YOU MAKE THEM SMILE | DBH

characters: connor, markus, rupert, simon, and ralph.

Connor (RK800)

— Most humans are indifferent or straight-up rude to Connor because he’s an android, so he doesn’t have much basis for comparison. This means all you really have to do is be nice to him and he’s enamored.

— “Would you give the poor guy a break, he’s just trying to help,” you snapped at Hank when he was giving Connor a hard time the first day you met at the station, before going back to angrily typing on your terminal. 

— The Lieutenant waved you off but Connor’s curiosity was piqued. Most humans refer to androids as “it”, and the fact that you didn’t was intriguing to him.

— Treat him like he’s human. Even the little things, like asking if he wants a drink- even if you know androids don’t eat or drink, it’s the fact that you ask anyways that has him smiling stupidly. Tell him to get home safe, ask if he’s feeling alright, and invite him out somewhere. Making Connor feel wanted without him necessarily having to do anything to earn it is a surefire way to have him smiling in your direction—especially when you aren’t looking.

— Kissing him is a given since he’s obsessed with it. Peck his cheek or the corner of his lips as you pass by and you’ll have him smiling at you over his shoulder with that lovesick puppy dog look.

— It takes a long time for Connor to grasp jokes, so puns and humorous jabs will only get you a confused head tilt in response. But he likes your laugh so if you’re giggling trying to get your joke out he can’t help but beam at you.

— The first time you held his hand was on a case you were assigned together, a suspect veered around the corner and you tugged him by the hand behind a dumpster to avoid detection. You’d been too focused on the suspect to realize you were still holding his hand but Connor noticed.  You didn’t see the way his LED flashed yellow as he inspected your joined hands, fascinated by the sight of your pretty fingers laced between his own. And when you turn to find him smiling at you, you realize your mistake, apologizing profusely.

— So a big fan of hand-holding, please do it more often, the corners of his mouth can’t help but twitch upwards when you do.

— GRINS LIKE A MENACE WHEN YOU STAND UP TO PEOPLE FOR HIM. People are jerks and while Connor tends to just brush them off, sometimes you can’t and you match their energy right back at them. And Connor likes it very much, can’t help but get smug knowing he’s untouchable around you because you’ll gladly throw hands to defend his honor. Will hold you back if things get physical, however.

— If someone were to insult him too harshly he would just say “Y/n will be hearing about this 😌” 

— Everyone at the station knows to fuck off unless they want an angry chihuahua biting at their ankles. Gavin tests your patience and Connor is very entertained watching the two of you bicker over him.

— When you tilt his chin up to look at you when he’s overwhelmed, asking for him to talk to you. And when he can’t find the words, you pull him into your arms and let him press his face into your neck for comfort, telling him he’s gonna be alright. You hold him until you feel him smile against your clavicle and his LED flickers back to blue.

Markus (RK200)

— You were a big help during the revolution, hiding runaway deviants and sending them to Jericho. It was only natural that you ended up spending a lot of time together and eventually falling in love, despite your differences. Loves that you treat him like a person and are so kind to his people. They’ve suffered so much at the hands of humans, and it’s you that reassures him that not all humans are incapable of being enlightened. 

— Smiles at you from a distance as you care for the damaged androids in Jericho, knowing they’re safe in your caring hands. You do what you can with the supplies you’re able to swipe, and offer comfort to those who are too far gone.

— Markus likes to share his interests with you. If you ever wanted to paint with him, he’d be overjoyed, just being in the zone and then being able to look over at you and see you so focused on your creation. Sit down next to him while he’s at the piano and lean against him while he plays. Let him teach you to play. Let him move your hands to the correct positions, and listen to his soft voice guiding you through keys and their correspondences.

— Loves when you cook together, though the majority of the time you’re distracted by one another and doing more smooching and dancing than paying attention to the stove. Say hello to slightly overcooking stuff because you were too busy tongue-wrestling with your android boyfriend.

— Markus smiles the most when you somehow exactly when he needs comfort, and do so without hesitation. It’s like you’re able to see his stress levels, which he knows is impossible, but it makes him no less impressed with your emotional intelligence. You really are his grounding force, and when he’s ever uncertain or lost, he knows he can come to you.

— You two have a bit of a habit of lovingly bullying one another at every opportunity, and he loves that you can keep up.

Rupert Travis (WB200)

— Rupert doesn’t trust humans easily, but showing affection for birds will draw him to you. Maybe you frequent the same park and he often sees you feeding birds—maybe you even have a bird of your own! His Pigeons are his babies, so if you’re kind to them, you’re being kind to him by extension.

— When you finally get past the walls Rupert built to protect himself from being detected and deactivated, you’ll find that he’s very sweet. Still quiet, but you can see that he wants to be close to you. If he catches you baby-talking to his birds he can’t help but grin.

— Smiles when you tip the bill of his hat up so you can see his eyes, and practically beams if you lean in to kiss him. He’s… so soft ugh. He’s shy about reciprocation at first, his model was programmed primarily for agriculture, so romantic gestures are outside his realm of expertise. He does enjoy your gentle touch, however, so much so that he seeks it out when he requires comfort. Sometimes all he wants is for you to wrap him in your arms and let him lie there, you don’t even need to speak.

— if you go out somewhere together (which will take convincing, especially before the revolution) he sticks to your side and keeps his head down, he needs your shoulders to be touching or your hand to grip as you traverse food stalls and aisles in the grocery store. But if you whisper little jokes or sweet nothings to him he can’t help but smile softly at you.

— Rupert likes to listen to you talk, he doesn’t have loads to add to a conversation but he’s a great listener. And if you trail off thinking you’re talking his ear off he’ll ask you something else to get you going again.

Simon (PL600)

— Simon feels things very deeply, lending an ear when he needs to talk makes him comfortable with you. He feels he doesn’t have to keep up a brave face with you like he does to reassure the others in Jericho, he knows you’ll listen and understand. He’s very grateful when you help him work through new emotions, seeing as you’ve experienced many of those being a human and all.

— Saying thank you when he inevitably does things around the house for you once you settle into domesticity, being thanked for things is still quite new to Simon. It feels good to be appreciated and treated like he’s a living being.

— If you thought being thanked wasn’t enough to give him whiplash receiving gifts certainly will be! If you’re the artistic type, make him something and tell him that he inspires you. The prospect of being your muse makes him feel very special, and the fact that you’re always thinking of him and what he’d want makes him feel even more in love with you.

— You’ll often catch Simon gazing at you with that soft smile while you’re doing everyday things, even though he offers to take care of housework you insist on sharing responsibilities. “You’re my boyfriend, not my maid, we’ll do it together.” It’s then when he realizes just how serious you are about your relationship and he wants to cry he’s so happy.

— Smiles at you when he catches you staring with that loving look in your eyes.

— Has to bite back a grin every time you refer to him as your lover to other people, especially if it confuses them and you say “Yes my boyfriend is an android, is that a problem?” Your confidence is usually enough for people to awkwardly drop the subject, but the few who have pressed get the cold shoulder very quickly.

— He’s proud to be yours, so he enjoys it when you reinforce the idea.

— Simon very much enjoys being called pet names, by the way, call him honey, sweetheart, baby— makes him melt into a puddle every time. Watch his eyes soften and his cheeks fill with blue blood as you call him the sweetest things, he appreciates them, no matter how silly they become.

Ralph (WR600)

— Humans have terrorized Ralph and his psyche has suffered greatly because of it, so for you to be kind to him after all of that seems too good to be true. But when you look upon him with so much affection and treat him with so much care Ralph can’t bring himself to rip himself away from you. You who see him as a person, and not a machine.

— Ralph is always happy to see you, and the moment you walk through the door he’s practically beaming and jumping for joy. Your presence is a comfort to him once he is no longer afraid of you. While Ralph is glad to be “free” he gets very lonely and craves companionship, like you saw with Kara and Alice he wants to be a part of a family—even if he initially went about it the wrong way.

— He smiles the widest when you ask him if he wants to live with you, because of course he does. The idea of being a part of your life, being able to see you every day? He couldn’t imagine anything better than that. And when you drive it home that you want him to be safe, he gets a little teary. Reminding him that you care makes him smile like nothing else.

— He’s so happy when you help him around the little garden he grew outside your now shared home. He talks to the plants like they understand him and will melt if you do the same. Ralph loves that you’d try to participate in his hobby, even if you aren’t all that into gardening, he appreciates your help and your company. Buy him new plants as gifts, please!!! He accepts them so graciously and cradles the pot close like he’s made a new friend, murmuring to himself about where he wants to plant it.

— Compliment him! He flusters at any and all praise, shuffling in place and smiling ear to ear when you say nice things to him. Say thank you- or kiss him in thanks when he cooks for you or cleans up around the place, he loves the validation.

— Surprise hugs! Ralph is jumpy, but surprising him with hugs and affection is a good way to start making positive associations. He may gripe a little if he accidentally spills or knocks something over in his fright but if you go to pull away he grabs your arm, “Don’t go.” Once he’s grown used to your shenanigans doing this will make him laugh.

— You’re shocked to find that Ralph is ticklish, which is amazing to you, how technology is able to replicate such human sensations. So naturally you tickle him more. You’ll have him wheezing and writhing around in no time, begging half-heartedly for mercy. How could youuuuu. He absolutely will get revenge so watch out, he’s stronger than you so it’s harder to escape from his tickling onslaught. He laughs if you laugh so it’s a win-win.

— Kiss all over his face and he’ll burst into giggles.

[murswrites]

Fluff Alphabet ⎯ Tobias Eaton

Character/Celeb: Tobias “Four” Eaton Fandom: Divergent MASTERLIST

A/N Thanks to my horrible mental health I can’t connect to any of the characters I usually enjoy writing for... only the ones that I consider #comfort characters (or if I simp for them *sigh*)

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Intelligence and passion. He’s a smart guy despite looking like a hot meathead, Four definitely needs to be able to talk to someone and have them keep up without him feeling like he’s talking to a wall. What I mean by passion is the ability to continue through with something even if it’s hard. He finds hardwork to be rewarding.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Probably not due to how his father raised him. Four doesn’t want to risk being a bad parent like his dad was.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He’s typically a big spoon but honestly he adores it when you hold him close at night.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Very lowkey, usually hanging out in his apartment or wandering the city at night.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“You are my salvation.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

The first time you both opened up to each other, it was pitch black out but the full moon was enough for him to appreciate the softness in your eyes as you listened to what Markus Eaton would do to Four... it was in that moment when he knew you were the one.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He hates the thought of ever raising a hand to you so Four handles you with his hands very gently. Four has feather-like touches because he’s afraid to break you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Four prefers hugs but he likes when you press your palms against his.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He thought you were a bit weak to be honest, but that soon changed as you advanced through the Dauntless initiation.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Sometimes, but Four’s rather chill about it. He’s not that insecure in your relationship so he doesn’t find it to be worth it to stress over another person shooting their shot.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Four’s surprisingly tender and soft, shy almost. You definitely initiated the kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You do, Four’s terrified of putting himself out there even if he’s not insecure. He doesn’t want to risk himself for someone else.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

The first time you both opened up to each other, it was pitch black out but the full moon was enough for him to appreciate the softness in your eyes as you listened to what Markus Eaton would do to Four... it was in that moment when he knew you were the one.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He tries to because he’s not the best at expressing his genuine emotions (hello childhood trauma) but lets be honest, Four’s better at giving you a rock he found rather than buying you material gifts.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Mustard yellow, it’s warm and neutral. It makes him feel safe.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He’s not big on pet names but he would definitely come up with a terrible nickname based off of your first name just to terrorize you with.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Reading, he doesn’t “look” like a big reader but Four enjoys the simple things.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Rain doesn’t really affect his work so most of the time he’s working. But on the off chance it’s a day off, he’s probably in the gym training.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Four tends to bottle everything up and then channel it into his workouts so he often finds himself overworking himself if he’s feeling down or remembering his childhood too much. He cheers others (honestly just you, he hasn’t got many friends) up with simple gestures, usually offering a shoulder to lean on or cracking situation appropriate jokes.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He prefers to listen but with you he ends talking through his trauma because it helps him when he knows you understand why he acts the way he does. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Believe it or not, he is a sucker for a shoulder or back scratch. He doesn’t know what it is but holy jesus does he feel good after his back is freshly scratched. Maybe it’s the shivers that go down his spine afterwards, but it’s nice nonetheless.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

His skillset. He’s proud of how far he’s come from being just his father’s son. Four’s not too much of an arrogant guy but if there’s a chance for him to impress someone he likes, he’s taking it.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

I think he’d do something simple and ask before buying a ring. Maybe it’d be over dinner or when you’re walking through the abandoned city at night. Either way he’d say it so carefully as though expecting a no from the get-go.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Body - Mother Mother

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

He’s never really been in love (unless that childhood crush counts) so not really. But once he meets you, he’ll catch himself imagining a perfect life.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Four would just adore a big dog, I know it. Something like an Alaskan Malamute or a Samoyed because they’re so soft and ferocious. Plus free cuddles!

[aberfaeth]

tagged by @laiqualaurelote to post the last lines of my WIPs (all of yours look fantastic by the way) so here we go :3 i picked the ones i’ve worked on most recently! bonus points to guess the two niche video game fandoms lol

1.

The priest standing over Fred’s coffin is saying something about the resurrection and the life—Nancy tries to listen but doesn’t quite manage to sort the words into coherent sentiments, noise washed out by the low buzz at the back of her head. Her fingers twitch for a pen, for her k-frame, something to hold. Another hand, maybe. She settles for her own, squeezing so tight her knuckles ache.

2.

Malorn didn’t seem offended, though. He chuckled lightly. “If you’re looking for a Death Professor, I guess I’m your guy,” he said. 

“Oh!” I blinked, reevaluating my assessment of his age. If he was old enough to be a professor— “Are you, like, a vampire?” 

You know, how you talk to hot people.

3.

Vickie’s sitting on the porch when the earthquake hits.

There’s no lead-up, no tremors, nothing in the forecast that would suggest the town of Hawkins is about to be ripped apart. No moment of watching the glassware shake on the shelves and wondering if they’d actually tip over, how fast she’d have to dive to catch them. The only warning she gets is the whisper of a breeze, colder than physics should allow this late in April, wind like a dozen tiny spider-legs across the back of her neck. And then the ground beneath them crumbles.

4.

Dustin turns to Will, looking for all the world like someone who’s just been told that they’ve stopped making Indiana Jones movies. “But what if they sell out?”

And there’s something about his crushed expression that makes Steve’s heart do all kinds of unsanctioned gymnastics. Suddenly, Steve’s thinking about the other times Dustin has worn that kind of sadness, had to bare his teeth, set his shoulders, and carry it. Not just the people they’ve lost, the things they’ve seen, but—mundane stuff. Missing out on days at the arcade to save the world. And when Steve thinks about that, it’s like this age old chasm of a wound opens in his chest, and he just wants to give Dustin and Will and the other kids every good thing he possibly can.

Which is probably what Dustin wanted to happen. The little shit. 

5.

I have spent too long alone, her voice echoes. And now loneliness is all I can look forward to, thanks to you. His research, his self-importance, his blindness, his fault. Fane grasps weakly at the cold, thin fabric of Aetera’s coat, and notes, with a sort of detached air, that his hands are trembling. Breath he doesn’t need shoots in through his mouth, disperses frigid and wet around the inside of his chest. He should have been better. He should have been smarter, he should have known, he should have let Aetera put him down for the horrors he put her through—

6.

There’s a noise that might be “come in” and might be a growl, which Markus takes as the okay to inch the door open and peek his head inside. Maggie is lying on her bed, one leg propped up against the wall. “Hi, Markus,” she says, without glancing away from her phone.

7.

Norman Takamori wakes into consciousness with the violent, thrashing gasp of someone breaking the surface of water after drowning for rigons. 

i tag @grasslandgirl @swissarmywife @boasamishipper @steveharrington @waveridden @strangetorpedos @cauldronoflove and anyone else who wants to !!!

[bump1nthen1ght]

Thicker than Water (Demon x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Female Reader x Gender Fluid! Demon

Genre: High Fantasy

Warnings: Arm Injuries, Several mentions of blood

Word Count: 1870 Words

Summary: A summoning gone awry ends up in your favor

Chapter 2

A/N: Alright, I know I literally just posted a demon story but this post showed up on my dash and my god if I have never been more inspired to write a fic. I legit wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy. Also I plan this story to be multi-chap, but still rather short, so maybe 3 parts in total

Before that night, you had never known what nearly-passing out felt like.

Your mother had done it, once or twice, usually after a particularly stressful day at the shop. If you didn’t check on her between your studies she may forget to eat entirely, your father as well. But you had been lucky; Someone had always been there to catch her, to cradle her head and spoon-feed her strength back.

On the forest floor, surrounded by the smell of your own blood, you have no such luxury.

The black spots flickering in your vision blend into the desne canopy above you and your tears only muddle your sight. The iron and copper of the summoning circle drawn around you drown out the scent of fresh pine and grass, while your ears can only focus on your own heartbeat and the bickering of the four boys.

Oh, that’s right, they’re still here.

It seems you had lost more fluid than you realized, probably because of your incessant crying. You had tried to stop the flow, but your brain was losing coherent function with every second. The boys conversation sounds far away and hollow, bouncing off your eardrums and confusing your sense of direction

“You idiot, I told you not to go for the arm!”

“We needed a lot of blood!”

“But she needs to read the ritual dumbass! She can’t if she dies!”

Ah yes, the ritual, it all is flooding back to you now.

Having received a private education from your father at your family’s apothecary, you were already prone to isolation as a child. It didn’t help having no siblings, nor a lacking natural talent for friend-making. Although you had lived in the city all your life, the young people your age knew very little about you, and you them.

You knew they had rumors about you, The daughter the apothecary hides away; That your gaze can turn people to stone, that you can curse and poison people with a couple words and the right ingredients.

The truth was you weren’t so glamorous. You knew your way around a medicine cabinet, sure, but nothing about poisons or magic spells. You didn’t have any special abilities to compensate or explain your reluctance for socialization. Just some overprotective parents and a shy disposition.

So when the handsome postmasters-son began to pay you special visits, you let your guard down. You let him walk you to and from the market, memorizing your weekend route. You let him in for a bit of tea late at night, especially when it seemed so cold, and told him where the spare key was kept. And yes, you even told him about your favorite secluded spot in the forest, where the sounds of civilization were far away, where you could be alone.

And here, in these last moments of your life, you can’t help but feel so naive.

“Hey, hey!”

A boot taps your cheek, shaking you out of your revelry. Your glassy eyes look over to your right.

It’s one of the local merchant’s boys, you think his name is Nicholas? It doesn’t really matter. All you knew about him was that he was a bit rough around the edges; always nicking things from pockets, looking up ladies skirts, and skipping his lessons. That’s what your dad complained about anyway.

A page is shoveled in front of you, dangling over your face. Your eyes take a while, but focus on the words. Nicholas’ boot heel digs into your neck.

“Read it out loud, or we’ll kill you.”

Clearly I’m going to die anyway dumbass, why should I help you?

You might’ve retorted, if you were in such a physical condition to do so. But instead, you do as you're told, and start speaking.

To your left, the postmaster’s son, Richard, sucks in a breath with anticipation. Any false composure he had while luring you here is gone, his feet tapping with excitement as he holds your left arm and lef bound spread eagle.

Holding your right leg is Markus, another merchant boy. He picks at his teeth.

“What are you guys going to wish for?” He whispers. It goes in your ear and out the other, too focused on forming coherent sentences.

“A full-harem of babes, obviously.” Simpers Hunter, the son of a landlord. He isn’t ugly, only a bit plain, and has enough money to boot. Compared to the other bachelors in town however, he has had little luck in procuring a courtship.

“A million coins could get you that and more, idiot. That’s what I’m wishing for.” Whispers Richard.

“What are you going to wish for Nic?” Asks Markus

“Oh my gods, will you guys shut the fuck up?”

Nic snarls, unconsciously digging his heel back into your throat. You choke and stutter, but keep going. The runes around you, written in your own blood, begin to glow.

All of the boy’s eyes widen and they step back from you. Your limbs sink like dead weight as the words begin to flow out your mouth with no thought. The paper with the chant drops to the ground, out of your sight, but it's like your brain has been reprogrammed; You know the rest, know it in your bones.

The grass begins to simmer and burn under the summoning circle, smoke swirling into formation above you. When the final word whispers out of you, you feel your body go lax. You don’t even remember tensing up

I guess this is it. Sorry Mom, Sorry Dad.

You clench your eyes, just hoping the demon will be quick. That it will at least leave a recognizable corpse.

“Holy shit.” You hear muttered, unsure by whom.

Your eyes are closed, body teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but your senses are still intact. A hot wave of breath washes over your face and the ground below you trembles with heavy footsteps. The boys are quiet but you can hear their hearts pounding. They thrum with life, while yours slowly fades.

“Why have you summoned me, mortal?”

Even half-dead, your muscles tense in fear. The demon's voice is deep and resonates like a crowd talking all at once. It reeks of inhuman power and cracks like thunder.

A brief silence passes, before Nicholas finds his courage.

“We have come to ask for a wish.”

Later, when recounting the story, you will mention that the demon looked over to Nicolas, unamused, despite never seeing it yourself. The demon huffs, the heat of it blowing over you once more.

“I don’t believe I asked you.” The demon mutters. The cacophony of voices blend together into one, bland and emotionless. Even in your state however, you are able to decipher a couple of louder tones which overpower the others. They seem...angry.

“But...you…”

“I asked….”

Your eyes snap open as a wet droplet lands on your cheek. Lingering above you, drool seeping from their unnaturally sharp teeth, is the creature. It’s face resembles that of a goat, but sharp fangs stick out from their lower lips. Their eyes are golden and shine in the night, piercing right into yours. Despite the part of your body screaming out in terror, another part feels oddly….comforted. It’s why you don't startle when they brush a hand against your cheek, their thumb wiping away your tears. Their palm is warm, not like a blistering flame, but like a thick quilt. Like hot chocolate on a rainy day.

“......What do you need of me, little one?”

Their hand, padded and calloused, slides down your arm, closing up the large gash on your inner bicep. In another movement, they do the same to the other. Power and vitality seems to sink back into your body, drip by drip.

Words escape you, but not Nicolas.

“Excuse me, demon, but we're the ones who summoned you.” The sarcastic tone of his does little to hide the quivers of his fear, especially when the demon's neck turns toward him at an unnatural speed. Still, he persists. “Not her. And we want-”

“Do you take me for a blind fool?” The voice bellows, sending all the boys to their knees. Markus clutches his ears while Hunter whimpers on the ground. Nicolas falls back to the ground, eyes widen.  The demon stands to their full height, several feet above all of you. “Do you think I was born without smell, without sense?” The step away from your body, swiping at the ground with their fingers, taking a small bit of your blood with it.

The demon sticks their thumb and forefinger in front of Nicolas’s face, causing him to yelp and fall onto his back. “Is this your blood which forged the connection? Was it your words that spoke me into existence? Was it your body which came to the brink, wrenched open the door and pulled us both through?”

Nicolas, trembling like a leaf, shakes his head no. The demon’s eyes jerk up to the others. “And was it any of these young men?”  

Richard furiously shakes his head, while Hunter stays collapsed on the ground. Markus pushes himself away, hands still clamped around his ears. The demon sneers, before turning and walking back to you.

The demon kneels before propping your upper body up with a gentle touch. A comforting claw rubs your lower back while another paw rubs the tension out of your shoulders.

“Now, mistress, what may you ask of me?”

Your muscles may no longer tire from blood loss, but your mind truly feels like it’s on the brink of breaking. The demon, with fearsome fangs and a soft look, looks to you for an answer.

“I-I…” You mutter as the demon continues to massage your back. They hum.

“Take your time, it is alright. Rituals are difficult, I can only imagine the toll your body feels.” The mass of voices have synchronized, fading from a hundred to a single, harmonious tune. It is cavernously deep, but pleasant. It reminds you of the portly older man who used to read stories aloud every holiday.

You feel your body unconsciously turn towards your captors. Nicholas stays stuck to the ground, the whites of his eyes almost glowing in the darkness. The others have slowly moved to their knees, all terrified with shaky limbs, and look like they might make a run for it. Markus is slowly inching towards Nicholas’ shoulders, trying to lift him up to his senses.

For the first time in your life, a deep, boiling hatred burns your skin.

Cowards. You sneer, with all the malice stored in your reserves.

“I want-I want…” You stumble as the anger bubbles out of your belly. “I want them to hurt. To feel humiliated.” Nails bite into the palm of your hand, letting out blood as you clench knuckles. “I want everyone to know what they’ve done, who they are, every fault they’ve ever been guilty of. I want them alive, but I want them to burn.”

The demon smiles, pulling you in for a hug. You collapse into their embrace, keeping your eyes locked onto the boys, those rats. The demon hums a contented tune as they rub your back.

“As you wish, my master.”

[fkahersweetness]

Mads Characters Sex Headcanon List

in order of best to worst in bed

Martin: literal comfort Daddy, more invested in partner's pleasure than his own but obvs likes his own as well -- never in a rush or showboating, just there to have a good fucking time and it shows, let's clap it out for the hero we deserve

Hannibal: stays doing The Most. knows a lot, done a lot, seen a lot, came a lot. manhandley and calculating af but it's part of the appeal

Lucas: does it with his glasses on. more enthusiastic than you'd think at first glance and will jackhammer the hell out of partner if not told to slow down

Overgard: while an overwhelmingly nurturing presence during sex, he also fucks like he's dying of hypothermia and the only warmth in the universe is balls-deep inside you

Cliff: single-minded and heavy into breeding kink; if you're not up for popping out babies, maybe this isn't for you. on the upside, say you're ovulating and you won't catch sleep for DAYS

Tristan: highly skilled and attentive during sex, if there's food promised later. he's adventurous and curious about different positions and can even braid your hair afterwards!

Duncan: pure power and speed. points off for never having any expression at all -- is he thinking about his taxes? most likely

Michael: gorgeous but likes it in mostly laying down positions because he's tired from riding horses all day. likes smacking ass tho which is a big plus

Nigel: cares mostly about his own pleasure but when you're being used as a sex toy by someone that hot, do you really care?? smokes during sex sometimes to keep himself from coming too fast

Grindelwald: will pretend to be a romantic dude and then turns into an absolute circus freak between the sheets -- do reccomend

11. Niels: he's just happy to be here! loves giving pleasure although slightly rusty at it -- he doesn't fuck often but when he does he rolls out the red rose petals.

12. Johann: not a terribly imaginative or adventurous fellow but makes up for it with stamina and a smoky presence. smiley and jokey during sex until you try taking loose his ponytail -- no touchy!

13. Le Chiffre: King of Toys, mostly bc he doesn't want to over exert himself -- asthma, after all. he's especially good with his fingers and especially bad at oral. it's give and take.

14. Thomas: acts like the type to do it with the lights off but then surprises everyone by bending you over and hitting it caveman style. then gets up, redresses, shuffles out without a word.

15. Mark: Normal Guy in the house!! lays pipe like a Normal Guy but the pluses come with that ass you could bounce a quarter off and lots of delicious sweat

16. The Priest: if you're into degradation, this is your one-stop shop. you'll have no idea if you're pleasing him until he comes and even then it's up for debate. have a drop of self-esteem? you won't after one night in his monastic bedroom.

17. David: mostly self-serving but, on the upside, doesn't make you do a lot of the work. wham-bam-thank you-ma'am personified, he gets in, gets off, gets out

18. Jorgen: he invented the game Pop Goes the Weasel -- he comes waaay too early for it to even be considered sex but he does have some decency and so will subsequently go down on you for thirty minutes afterwards

19. Elias: the epitome of "wait what there's another person here?" get ready to walk funny because it's the Suez Canal all over again

20. Jon: rugged as shit but don't let that fool you -- dude is a bit of a pushover and will let you grab his chest hair and ride him like a docile pony. not a bad day at the stables

21. Ivan: is 100% sure you're having a great time and nothing needs to change even when you're not having a great time and can we switch this up please

22. Markus: looks depressed or angry during sex. there's probably a category of porn for that. only likes giving it from behind. keep your eyes to yourself!!

23. Kaecilius: if you like to be hogtied by magic and spun around and around, naked, while he chuckles darkly at your genitals, go off i guess.

24. Arne: is up for it anytime, anywhere, no matter what's going on or who else is in the room

25. Svend: super sweaty and that haircut is a nightmare but if you turn around and just listen to his whimperings about being loved, it can be enjoyable

26. One Eye: syphilis? likely. yeast infection? definitely. worth it? ... yes

27. Sniff: what the hell is wrong with you???

will update as i see more Mads characters

[mnictasbcl]

I’ll be forever young (with you)

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 13th: Forever young @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Sumo

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson, Connor & Hank Anderson & Sumo

Additional Tags: Fluff, Birthday, First birthday, Presents, Detroit bridge, Swearing, Hank is the best dad

Summary: August 15th, 2039. Connor’s first birthday.

He doesn’t think Hank will do anything that big for his birthday…

 And is proven very wrong.

(The final prompt for this event! I’ve enjoyed it very much :) )

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

AUGUST 15th, 2039

TIME AM 07:40:02

 Connor awoke to a ball of brown and white fur catapulting itself onto his bed.

Opening his eyes and fully coming out of the stasis, he realised that this was Sumo.

He ran his hands over his soft fur, receiving the wet slobbery kisses over his face, smiling. The Saint Bernard seemed particularly affectionate and excitable, the reason why eluding him as he was distracted by the fluffy cuddles.

But then, finally pulling himself away from the great dog and scanning his surroundings, he found out the reason pretty quickly.

Loosely strapped upon Sumo’s head was a colourful party hat, the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ printed on it in bold letters. Deducing that it wasn’t Hank’s birthday, it wasn’t Sumo’s…

The only other person in the house was him.

He chuckled, moving to pull the hat off the dog but he grumbled and jumped off the bed before he could do so.

“I didn’t think you’d find that comfortable, Sumo.”

The only reply he was given was a snort as the dog sniffed at the floor, nosing slowly out of his bedroom.

Connor shrugged. It made sense. It was a year since his activation day. Strangely… he did recall Hank paying extra attention and asking questions when he had mentioned he was almost a year old since being activated.

But he hadn’t viewed it as a birthday. Merely the day after his testing was complete and he was finally activated and shipped out on the same day for his first mission.

Of course, with the development of android rights, birthdays had been allowed for androids, even encouraged. Markus had celebrated his, he remembered, as he’d created a painting for him as a gift. So had various other members of Jericho.

Still, it felt… different to view this as a human celebration, of him turning a year old. The body he was in was technically not even a year old because he’d fallen off the rooftop on his first mission. He shuddered. It hadn’t been a brilliant day of birth, if humans called it that, that was for sure.

However, with help from people like Hank and Markus, he was beginning to accept his new humanity. Perhaps embracing his birthday would allow him to really move into the next stage of his life.

Besides, it wasn’t like Hank would do anything massive for the day, right?

 He walked out of his room and was met with balloons tied to the curtain poles, a banner proclaiming ‘Happy birthday/activation day, Connor!’, presents piled up on the living room table and Hank standing at the kitchen counter, a birthday hat askew on his head.

“Here comes the birthday boy.” Hank chuckled as he walked in, taking in his bewildered expression. “I know I probably went a bit… a lot extreme on this, but it’s your first birthday. You got to have a nice first birthday.”

Connor continued to scan over the room. “It’s…”

“I know.” He took a step towards him. “I know you’re still getting used to all your new-fangled emotions. But this doesn’t have to be big and stressful. Just a nice day where you can open some gifts and eat cake.”

He quirked a brow. “Did someone buy me a biological stomach, Lieutenant?”

“Smartass. Fine, I’ll eat cake. You can watch and drink a thirium pouch.”

Connor nodded. That didn’t sound too different. He followed Hank into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Alright…” Hank hummed as he looked over the gifts. “We’ve got a few things- a lot of things- from your friends at Jericho. One or two from the guys at the DPD… and me and Sumo piled some stuff together.”

Connor looked over it all with confusion, hands reaching out before pausing, reassessing. Eventually, he looked over to Hank for help.

“What… exactly do I do?”

Hank smiled. “They’re for you. Open whichever you want, but make sure Sumo doesn’t eat the wrapping paper.” He threw a slightly dirty look at the dog who was laying in front of the table, waiting. Sumo glared back at him.

Connor nodded. That sounded reasonable. Picking up the first gift, which was from Markus, he found even the tingle of excitement building in his chest, wondering with gratitude what his loved ones had chosen for him.

Markus had gotten him a book about fish, along with a selection of classical piano sheet music for him to play. Seeing the care put in, the thought about what he was interested in… was touching.

Tearing through the next few gifts elicited the same feeling. Everything was so thoughtful, even the Saint Bernard plush Sumo had ‘bought’ for him.

“Full of himself.” Hank jerked a thumb fondly at the dog when he opened the gift.

“It is very sweet, Sumo. Perhaps not as good as the real deal…” He bent down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “But very cute, thank you.”

After everything was placed neatly back on the table, he thought they were finished. But Hank looked to him and proclaimed:

“Okay. I have one last gift for you…”

Connor tilted his head. “But I appreciated the things you have already gotten for me, Lieutenant. They were very generous.”

“This isn’t a thing.” He replied, getting up off the chair. “Come on, follow me.”

The android was intrigued as he was led out to the car. Sumo was put in the back, so he assumed it couldn’t be another vacation or they would have left him with the neighbours.

Still, it seemed like Hank wished this to be a surprise, so he looked down at the mini Sumo plush he had brought with him, stroking his fingers over the soft fabric. He chuckled to hear Sumo whining with jealousy from the back.

Connor managed to distract himself as such until the car pulled to a stop. Looking up, he found they were in the park.

Hank strode ahead of him once Sumo was on the leash, and he hurried to catch up. It didn’t seem like they were in the mood for sightseeing today, the scenery rushing by as Hank continued on.

But, just as Connor was about to inquire where they were going, he found himself at a familiar place. Looking out over the Detroit bridge.

Hank sat down on the bench, holding Sumo’s leash and patting the spot beside him for the dog to hop up.

“I remember this place.” Connor mused, standing beside the bench. Earlier in the day now, he didn’t look out at the stars twinkling overhead but instead the crisp summer sky. “You almost shot me here.”

Hank laughed. “If that’s what you’re asking; no, I’m not going to shoot you. That would be a shit birthday present.”

“It would indeed be rather unpleasant.”

“And illegal.” Hank added. “But… that is partly the reason I brought you here. Not the almost shooting thing. Maybe just the… almost.” He sighed.

“I wasn’t even gonna think about it; you were getting on my nerves, there was too much going on in my head… I was just going to shoot you. But then- you didn’t kill those tracis. And you stood there and told me you were afraid to die. This was the first place I realised that you were actually alive… and all the better for it, otherwise, where would we be now?”

Connor mulled it over. If Hank had shot him, it would have… well, severely halted the growth of their relationship.

“But I don’t want to think about that.” Hank continued on. “I didn’t shoot you. You had a heart. And now it’s your first birthday. In that year, you helped the leader of the android revolution… You pulled me out of whatever rut I’d fallen into. And honestly? I couldn’t see my life without you right now, son.”

Connor glanced to Hank as he paused. He didn’t comment on the way his voice had choked up, instead placing a hand gently on his shoulder, a sign of comfort.

“It’s really helped me, living not on my own again—no offense, Sumo. But just having someone in the house, you… Even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.” He chuckled.

“What I’m trying to say is… Well, I know you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. A long life. A life where you’ll always look like that, where you’ll be forever young- and a while from now, you’ll be living a new life, without—” he looked up to Connor. “But right now, where we are? I like that. I don’t want it to go away. So that’s why…”

It appeared Hank had hit his quota for sappiness, as he simply held out a piece of paper to Connor wordlessly.

Connor took it off him, quickly scanning over it. It was a form. Official looking, with Hank’s signature at the bottom, and room for his…

“An adoption form?”

“If it’s too much, just tell me. I don’t want you thinking I’m some clingy old man but—”

He handed it back to Hank, his signature printed on it. “Thank you… dad.” The word was strange. It wasn’t likely he’d always use it- but the meaning then, the feeling it brought… it was the best birthday present he could have asked for.

Hank smiled back to him. “Great. Now, what about we get out of here? The view’s pretty, but it’s gonna get hot as hell later in the day and that cake back at home isn’t going to eat itself.”

Connor followed after him, back to the car. “Of course. I have heard, however, about this new android update which can install human mechanics such as eating…”

“I’m not saving you any fuckin’ cake, Connor. It’ll go old.”

“Like you?”

 Connor wouldn’t have it any other way. The small moments of genuine affection and feelings let out into the air… The regular day-to-day life of working at the DPD and bantering with Hank… Being forever young, one day, that all might end. But for now, he would live in the moment, and he would embrace it. All the emotions that would come with deviancy, whether good or bad, or even a mixture of both… He couldn’t ask for a better Lieutenant turned father-figure to help him through it.

[rk1k-hyperfixated]

I love rk1k and idk why it always rubs me the wrong way when peeps be writing conner as uwu ✨soft boi✨? I love it in small bursts like. He can be really cute and soft, but this boi is a badass. And I wish I could see more of markus just being in absolute astonishment of the skill and badassery of conner. Like terrified yet turned on by how heckin scary conner could be from an outside perspective. Yknow?

This is so valid I do not know where to start.

Connor is definitely badass, what with taking down armies and all that, and he’s been programmed to be a killer machine under his cute facade (there’s that part where he openly told Hank the purpose of his puppy face design). I think it is precisely that outer appearance that misleads people. He might be a newborn deviant in that sense, he might come off as naive (because clearly he is discovering new things every day) and maybe he is gentle, deep down, but that doesn’t, in any way, negate his badass side.

Pretty sure, at least from my POV, that Markus saw the badassery potential in Connor the moment he suggested infiltrating CyberLife alone. If it were anyone else, Markus would have decided against it, but he knew Connor was probably the only one capable out of all his people, so he trusted him with the task.

I think the portrayal of Connor being soft is, in the end, a matter of taste. I personally lean more towards a mixture of soft and terrifyingly hot. But as a deviant, I think Connor would be more peaceful. So he probably would have occasional outbursts of badassery, but otherwise he wouldn’t harm/hurt anyone on purpose. (Maybe this is what makes people read him as soft)

At the end of the day, I love rk1k because it portrays, in my eyes, a good balanced dynamic. If Markus is peaceful, I’d assume Connor would be too. They have a common aim and they would do anything to reach it (including being badass). That’s what makes them compatible. 

This is just my take on it. A personal opinion. 

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!

[rk1kheadcanons]

I have a prompt idea if you’re down, no rush at all! I just love the idea of rk1k meeting in college & it just being the first time either of them experience this real and deep love for someone. Like Connor is more on the reserved side & maybe was a lil sheltered, & while Markus is more outgoing he still approaches their relationship very carefully at the start. Both of their feelings for one another develop so strong so quickly, & maybe it scares them a bit and they don’t want to admit it to the other at first just how deeply they’ve fallen for each other because their relationship is still rather new, but it just ends up evolving into this really powerful/beautiful relationship. Can u tell I’m feeling soft rn lol

It's okay Anon, we'll be soft together.

When Connor first enters college, he's still awkward and feels like this is highschool 2.0 all over again. He has no high hopes of it being better than the good times (sharing anecdotes and movie quips with Kara and Chloe in Drama class) or worst than the bad times he experienced (bullying he experienced at the hands of Gavin Reed c/o the varsity football team and fighting with his own closeted feelings).

Connor expected his experiences to just...be.

Connor didn't come here for a good time; he didn't come here for any sort of time. All he intends to do is finish his criminology degree within these four years and dip.

Within a couple of months, he's more sure of himself. He's met some good friends like Simon and Daniel, and Simon's main squeeze, Josh. Daniel and he are best bitches 4 life at the start. He then meets North in English composition and the same happens all over again. The boss WLW and MLM solidarity were real.

He grows into himself with his friends. Now recognizes that he's a hot, gay bitch that has little time for messy people and likes to keep it that way.

He wears a camouflage of the 'shy, sweet type' so he can move around and be unseen easily even as he is constantly on the swivel, partly why he decided to become a detective: he was perfect for it.

His dad thought so too. Had said he would be so dangerous in their respective field because of how he was. He knew Connor was fucking manipulative and maniacal with the cutesy face and dangerous martial arts he'd learned-he'd raised him ofc. That adorable face was a damned front and Hank would guffaw when people fell for it.

Gavin Reed was the first to get his comeuppance senior year of high school and learn this. Connor had played the scared, shy guy- he'd then proceeded to beat the sounds and colors right out of Gavin's raggedy ass.

Now Connor had a damned fan. That bitch followed him to college he was so sprung n that ass whooping. Maybe he gave him brain damage?

Connor ignored him like he did everyone else on campus he wasn't trying to see. He remained reserved and clean-cut. Very few had seen the real him.

Connor had also vowed to not look for a relationship with anyone either in college. Bootycalls? Okay. Something to scratch that itch so he could remain focus on his studies, alright, but not a whole romantic situation.

Connor was just trying to get rid of Gavin for the umpteenth time since this year had started and of fucking course the rest of the football team was there. Gavin didn't know the meaning of "no" and "personal space" and was going to press the issue.

Here steps forward this God of a man. He checks Gavin and Connor's heart in a couple of words.

Gavin's threatened; Connor's titillated.

Markus Manfred enters stage left.

Stupid Markus Manfred and his stupid face, and his stupid heterochromia and stupid kissable mouth. Literally, fuck this dude.

No, literally, fuck him against some fucking lockers in the locker room after Markus winning game right now, get in him, because, because...

God, the way Markus chased his mouth with his own. The way he'd been stripped and lifted as he weighed next to nothing, the quick yet superb preparation on the fly and then the feeling of him quickly and effectively just getting inside... Connor's one leg shook with the stimulus, his other loosely hung around Markus waist for dear life.

Rip to his pants.

He can feel how he's being physically jostled by the other's larger hands, one on his side, the other under his thigh and it's just-

Connor's face is hot and flushed and he knows it. His damned eyes keep fluttering like he's seizing, mouth open and quite possibly drooling like he cannot control his facial muscles, control the noises pouring out of himself as every stroke inside of him touches that one sensitive spot just right.

His nails bite into Markus beautiful copper skin, flecked in freckles as Connor yells out his joyous release to everyone within a three-mile radius.

When it's said and done, they both had to recap how they even got into this scenario.

Neither were complaining, not really, just really taken aback that had happened out of the blue like that and felt so natural. Markus had been chiding Gavin about being a creep, to which Connor amended he was a stalking creep. It hadn't flown over we'll with Markus since he was the captain of the team.

Gav was hazed, he was pissed and retreated. They had stayed and talked to each other. Just talked. Markus invited him to that evening game to which Connor advised he'd already be at because he was a band member. It was early and they had parted but that whole day was filled with happenstance's of Markus appearance and talking to him. The pull had been strong.

The attraction was overwhelming and it was a bit terrifying for both parties to admit. They had just been talking to each other. Nothing significant or substantial.

Markus felt maybe he was riding a gaming win high along with his obvious attraction to Connor.

Connor felt like maybe it was mutual attraction and appreciation for him.

They both left it at that. Where Connor had not seen Markus before, he now began seeing him everywhere: in passing, in some classes, he acts as a student assistant for additional credit and functions.

Connor being in the college band and having a very beautiful jock show him this sort of attention was flattering he has to admit, and that he's a bit curious about him.

Markus asks him out on an official date.

Connor really wants to scoff at him because the scared, nerdy kid inside of him says this is a trap, he's doing this for an elaborate prank, that this is somehow tied to Gavin and you will regret this.

Connor has a hard time believing that someone that looks like Markus would genuinely be interested in a person like him. Then again, he had just blown his back out magnificently not that long ago.

Markus is all warm and fuzzy, bubbly and chipper and Connor gets drunk on the free serotonin every time they meet.

He takes the plunge and says yes to the date and has never regretted it.

The conversation is immaculate, the expectations realistic and superb, and Markus is not just a jock: he's down to earth, adopted into money but lives simply. He wants to be a painter like his dad...

His father is the Carl Manfred, the famous painter and Connor feels like he had an aneurysm.

Connor tells Markus about his Lieutenant Dad, Henry 'Hank' Anderson. How he was the youngest lieutenant on the Detroit police force and Markus stupidly and excitedly smiles and says "I know! I was such a fan of your dad. He helped my dad when art thieves were stealing one-of-a-kind art from the museum!"

Connor is so damned smitten with this lovely creature that it's insane. He thinks he really might lo..like Markus a lot.

Connor's thoughts derail at the word choice a scowl on his face. What was he, 10?

Markus would run away so damned fast if he said those words to him. Just because they'd been going out and now regularly intimate didn't make it love, right? Why, then, did it bother Connor that it felt so right only with this man?

Markus notices the sour disposition Connor has, tries to get him back into the conversation, and even though Connor says he's okay, Markus knows that he's withdrawn from the conversation fully.

Unbeknownst to Connor, Markus had his strong feelings as well over the matter.

He was feeling Connor hard. It blindsided him and he knew that he needed to talk about this with Connor, lest one or both of them get hurt.

They both had fallen hard, much harder than they thought they would.

Instead of that talk Markus promised himself he was mature and level-headed enough for them both to have or even Connor just acknowledging the truth of the matter, they left the relationship in a sort of limbo, as is, neither wanting to face that four-letter word headlong in such a brutally honest way, fear that maybe just maybe what each of them had been feeling wasn't that and neither wanted the hurt if it wasn't L O V E.

I have more ideas on this one but I'll cut it for now because it's huge for a Tumblr post, lol. If it gets some interest, I have no problem with continuing it in another post of my own. HMU if you do like like. 😘

[rjhpandapaws]

Secure the Stage

Chapter 6: College, Coffee, and a Denny's Confessional

Tw: smoking, dysphoria, mentioned transphobia, and withdrawal

Trying to quit always gave him trouble. That was why he never actually managed to get there. Nicotine did all the things he couldn’t do on his own; calmed his thoughts, helped him organize his ideas, and kept the boredom away. There was more to it than that of course, his life wasn’t so dull that he would smoke just to keep occupied. This, like many of his bad habits, started because he had something to prove. Every male actor that he knew of that had made it big on stage smoked. He had thought if he did it too it would help him, there had to be a reason it was so prevalent in the industry. Moreover, if he smoked maybe if he smoked it would seal his image as an actor not an an actress. Of course, that wasn’t how it went. On some level he knew it wouldn’t, and now he was just another Performing Arts major with a nicotine addiction. Another Arkait with a vice and very little virtue to show for it. One of a set. Smoking made that revelation hurt a little less. It didn’t mean what he once wanted it to, but it meant something and he would take that. It was better than nothing.

So he smoked. When Connor asked him to quit because it wasn’t healthy, he tried. Then things got stressful again and he picked it back up. Markus offered to help so Silas tried again. Then picked it back up. He always came back to it. He knew what it could, and at this rate probably would do to his health, but even that lingering threat wasn’t enough to stop him. He worked his way through a pack about every three days. He sometimes made five on a good week. He didn’t smoke around Connor, and if he was at Richard’s apartment he would head to the balcony. Like a true addict it seemed, the one thing he couldn’t do was quit. It didn’t really strike him as something he did a lot until Richard bought him a custom lighter. His darling little brother wasn’t someone who gave gifts often, but when he did he wanted them to mean something, The gifts Richard gave reflected the person he gave them to. That was why Connor always got different kinds of coffee from him, and why getting an ornate custom lighter instead of something theater related had been such a rude awakening.

Even though he couldn’t quit, he didn’t smoke for a few days just to see if he could after he had been given the lighter. Then the ache got too bad and he started up again, like he always did. He hadn’t tried to quit since then, just bent his life into shape around it. There was no smoking around Alice, Connor, or Kara. If he was around Hank, Daniel, or Richard he could smoke, but only if he did it outside. The school and theater had designated smoking areas. At work he could smoke on his lunch or his fifteen if it was that kind of day. When he was alone at home he could smoke whenever and as much as he wanted to. Then along came Allen. Allen who was just a new security guard. Allen who took genuine interest into what was happening at the theater. Allen who always talked to him on his smoke breaks, but never got too close. Allen who didn’t ask him to quit like everyone else; but offered to be there whenever Silas was ready to try again. Allen who looked into the smoke and saw Silas as he was. Allen who he was thinking about way too often. He needed a cigarette.

One, he thought absently as he took his first drag. Never more than three, he’d told Allen in a blatant lie. He had wanted to make it seem like he had a handle on this. They’d been little more than strangers at the time and Silas still didn’t understand why he had said it. He wasn’t one to let himself be known. He changed faces depending on who he was with, but before Allen he had never lied like that. Usually he would deflect or give a non-answer. He didn’t understand why he felt like he needed to hide from it. It wasn’t like Allen knew that he was struggling with it. He was making conversation with something that was immediately observable. Silas smoked, and he almost always was when Allen came to see him. Silas sighed out a cloud of smoke. He didn’t want to think about this, but it seemed like he was just along for the ride at this point. An observer as his thoughts chased answers about a man he shouldn’t be this stuck on. Maybe a hook up would take his mind off this. Daniel was busy tonight so he would have to look for someone else.

He scrolled through his contacts for a while before he decided that a stranger might be better. There would be less explaining and he wouldn’t be judged as harshly for not letting them stay. There was a lot of reject swiping. He was about halfway through his second when he stumbled across Allen’s profile. Not another of many look alikes, but his actual profile. He choked on his breath. Allen hadn’t really seemed the type, but he supposed it showed how little he actually knew about Allen. What would happen if he swiped to match? Would he get a message? Maybe if they fucked Silas could get this out of his system and move on. He hesitated for a long while before he took a screen shot so he could come back to it later. He called Allen mostly on impulse. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea since he had just taken a screen shot of his profile on a hook up app, but he didn’t want to be alone. He’d moved on from overthinking Allen to things that even nicotine couldn’t help with. This was what he got for trying to quit he supposed. The bad things always got dug up when he did. All things considered though, he didn’t actually expect Allen to answer given the hour.

“Hey Silas.” Allen greeted and in the background Silas heard the thump and click of a door closing. He didn’t really think he would get this far and scrambled to get his thoughts into an order that made sense. “Hey, uh. So I know it’s a week night and you’re busy, but I’ve already had two and I’m debating a third.” Silas sighed to himself. he hated asking for help, it made him feel weak, but he needed it, “Could you maybe meet me at the theater?” There was a pause and Silas began to play with his lighter. “I have classes tonight Silas.” Allen replied, “I can’t just leave. Can you come to the university? I could have you as my guest if you would like.” Right, Allen was a student too. He didn’t talk about it much so Silas hadn’t thought about it when he called. “It won’t be bad for you that I’m there right?” He asked, despite the fact he was already looking for a ride, “I just can’t be alone right now.” “I promise Silas.” Came the gentle reply, “I’ll meet you at the student resources building alright? Let me know when you’re headed out.”

“I’m waiting on a cab right now.” Well, he was waiting for someone to accept his request, but it was late on a week night so his hopes weren’t that high. All else failed he could walk, “So it will be about twenty minutes.” Then, as an after thought, “Sorry for interrupting your classes.” Allen didn’t acknowledge the apology, he never usually did when it came to things like this, “I’ll meet you at the quad then. I’ll bring food and coffee and you can tell me what’s up.” Silas made a distant noise of agreement. Now that he had plans he was made aware of the dysphoria he had been trying to ignore. He lit his third cigarette and debated the merits of getting dressed. He decided against it because the sight of his body would sap away what little energy he had left and he would have a meltdown. He finished his cigarette before his phone chimed to tell him that his ride was confirmed. He put his lighter and cigarettes in his hoodie pocket and made his way down to the parking lot. Apparently he looked quite the mess because his driver handed him a pack of tissues and didn’t say a word the entire ride. When he got to the university he tipped extra and took the tissues with him.

Sixer: I’m here and looking for the building. The Okayest Captain: Alright. I’m on my way.

He found the building he was supposed to meet Allen at with relative ease. The hard part was finding a place that wasn’t crowded. He didn’t want to talk to someone he didn’t know. He pulled out another cigarette and thought about lighting it to pass the time, but the whole point of winding up here was to not smoke anymore tonight. He sighed and tucked it behind his ear just in case tonight wound up being a bust. He rolled his lighter from hand to hand until he noticed Allen approaching him. He put it back in his pocket and stood a little taller. Why he was trying to look so composed when he was on a college campus in his pajamas was a matter of pride. He didn’t want Allen to think he was weak. Allen for what it was worth, didn’t seem to care, and held the can of coffee out to him like this was a normal Monday for him. “Distraction or advice?” He asked, “I know it’s not as good as the hot stuff, but it’s the best I can offer for now.” Silas shrugged as he took the can, “Distraction please. I don’t want to think about anything and my usual distractions aren’t holding their appeal.”

Allen gave a slow nod and Silas felt a little like he was being judged, “Would college classes be enough of a distraction or do you need something else?” “I can try classes.” He replied as he opened the coffee, “I haven’t taken any gen ed classes since high school.” Allen turned back toward the entrance. “My next class is calculus, so we should probably head for the math and science building if we don’t want to be late.” He said casually, like numbers weren’t the bane of his existence. Silas groaned, he hated math, “I’m horrible at math so this should definitely do the trick.” That, or drive him to smoke what was left of his Marlboros. He wouldn’t know until he got there. As polite and helpful as Allen’s professor was, by the end of the class Silas could confidently say he was never going to take another calculus class ever again. It had been enough work that he couldn’t really think of anything else. Allen’s next class when a little better since he had some understanding of psychology and was actually able to contribute. By the start of his last class the ache was back and he couldn’t concentrate. Anxiety, dysphoria, and other unpleasant things prickled under his skin and he wanted nothing more than to chase them away with nicotine.

The thing that made all of it so unbearable was Allen’s concern. He was watching him closely and his worry deepened the usual furrow to his brow. Silas knew it came from a good place, but it made him want to scream. Which in turn made him want to smoke even more. They were headed for the truck when it became too much, “I would kill for some really shitty black coffee.” It took Allen a long moment to reply, “We could go to like Denny’s or something I guess.” “That works.” Silas agreed. He held the firm belief that diner coffee was the best during the smallest hours of the morning, “You can just drop me off if you have other plans.” “I was honestly just going to play games until I fell asleep.” Allen remarked as he unlocked his truck, “Don’t worry.” “Thank you.” Silas said once he was situated in the passenger’s seat. He played with his lighter to help deal with his nervous energy. He made sure not to trigger the flame, he just needed to do something while his thoughts ran away with him again. “Would you like to play music?” Allen asked just before the heavy silence became uncomfortable.

Silas thought about it for a while before he replied, “Uh, sure. You don’t mind if it’s slower stuff do you?” He asked and let out a humorless chuckle as he continued, “I’m not in the mood for loud for a change.” Allen shrugged again and handed him the cord. He connected his phone and resumed the playlist he’d been listening to earlier. For the most part it was made up of quieter songs but they had nice lyrics. Tonight though, it wasn’t living up to it’s title. His thoughts were still racing and he still felt like hot garbage. When they got to Denny’s he paused the music. Allen parked close to the doors and they both got out. He stopped by the smoking cubicle. He could have one cigarette before they went inside. He would be less jittery if he did. He reached for the cigarette behind his ear and then stopped. It felt like he was admitting defeat and that wasn’t something he wanted to do just yet. He shook his head and moved to catch up with Allen. Silas went for a corner booth out of habit. He wanted to be away from the doors and the kitchen to minimize any interactions he would have. He kept his lighter out until someone came to the table. Waitstaff tended to judge him when they saw it and that was something he didn’t want to deal with tonight.

He could feel Allen staring at him. Silas understood why he was concerned, but he wasn’t about to hightail it out for a smoke. Though the constant supervision made it tempting. Allen had every right to be worried though, it wasn’t like Silas had explained what was wrong when he called. He hadn’t expected that Allen would actually want to help him either. Silas let out a frustrated sigh, “Just ask. I can feel you staring at me.” “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Allen immediately back pedaled, “But I was wondering why you called me. You sounded like you were really upset earlier, and it looked like you were crying.” Right to the heart of things then. He grabbed for his lighter as he thought it over. If he was delicate with this it would probably be easier on Allen, but if he was blunt with it he could get it over with faster. He tapped his lighter again the table. Might as well be blunt with it, he would be baring his soul either way so it was probably better just to rip the band-aid off. Maybe Connor had a point, and letting someone in for once might help. There was only one way to find out he supposed.

“Have you ever experienced withdrawal Allen?” He finally asked and the shock written on Allen’s face answered him well enough on it’s own, “It’s painful and it messes with everything else. Those bad thoughts are louder, angrier, and that much more persistent. The bad feelings are that much worse and the only thing that can chase them away is nicotine.” Allen flinched and Silas came to the conclusion that he might have been a little too blunt. “No.” He replied gently, “I can’t say I’ve been through that, but it sounds horrible.” Silas laughed dryly, “Horrible is a word for it.” He took a breath and tried to reign in his frustration. Maybe he should have smoked before they came in here. “I felt weak. I know it comes with trying to quit because it happens every time I try to quit. Then the withdrawal comes as I reminder that I am not half the man I am known to be without nicotine running through my veins.” He sighed and flicked his lighter all the way open, this conversation was making him want to smoke even more, “In the eyes of some I’m not even a real man. Just pretending.” He watched a lot of emotions cross over Allen’s face and he seemed to settle of an odd mix of confusion and relief. Silas didn’t understand why, but he supposed it was better than anger.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.” He said eventually, “I know Denny’s isn’t the best place to have this conversation.” “Buy me a coffee and dinner and all will be forgiven.” He joked, “But honestly, thank you for humoring me tonight. It helped a lot.” “I’m glad I could help.” He said with a smile, “Also, knock yourself out. I can give you food in exchange for prying into your head. It seems fair enough.” Silas laughed as their coffees were brought over. He ordered the French toast breakfast and then drank from his mug. Getting that out of his system was fucking exhausting, but if he was honest it almost felt good. “I think not being able to go to my actual classes is part of my issue.” He set the mug down and drummed his fingers against the side, “Having all of this extra time to spend at the theater is nice, don’t get me wrong, but I smoke when I need to think and that might be messing with me.” He sighed quietly and flicked the cap of his lighter open, “I need something to do to keep me occupied. Coffee almost works, but I’ve seen what caffeine dependency has done to my brothers. Whish is better than this probably, but it seems annoying.”

“I mean, it could be a transitional thing I suppose.” Allen suggested with a shrug, “Have a cup of coffee every time you feel like smoking. Would that work?” “I don’t think you realize just how much coffee I would drink in a day.” Silas replied with a laugh, “Though I suppose it would be worth a shot. I could probably afford it with the money I don’t spend on cigarettes.” He rotated his mug to watch the liquid move, “Other than drinking a concerning amount of coffee, this actually might help. Thank you Allen.” Allen gave a mock cheers with his mug, “I’m glad I could help.” “Sorry for going off on you like that.” He said as their food was brought out, “You were only trying to help.” “I pushed you to tell me something you weren’t ready to.” He responded, “Thank you for apologizing though, I appreciate it.” They moved on to lighter topic while they ate. Silas didn’t contribute much since he was still coming down from exposing so much of himself to someone. It dawned on him slowly that he came out during his outburst, and he genuinely hoped Allen had missed it. Most people reacted poorly when they found out. Even if he had heard it, it wasn’t like Silas could take it back.

He didn’t really relax until he was back in the safety of his apartment. Tonight really could have gone worse, all things considered. Allen seemed genuinely interested in seeing him recover. It was a shame really, since Silas’s track record with sticking to good decisions was shit. Case and point being shown when he opened his hook up app again and matched with Allen. What could go wrong? Allen wanted to see the worst of him and this would be the best way to do it. Burn the bridge before Allen could get his hopes up. His phone chimed with a message from Allen, he wanted to know if Silas was doing okay. He put the cigarette from behind his ear to his lips, lit it, and then sent back the coffee emoji. One last moment of honesty before the wall of lies closed in again.

[ferricadooza]

since yesterday's "holiday" is dead to me for being pillaging colonial propaganda, i've waited until today to profess my love for everyone who's given me a reason to be thankful this year, and this is gonna be a long one so i'll put it under a cut dhdjsksjjsjs

💫 first up is levi. i know i'm second best to literally anyone who's willing to give you pets and treats in a given moment, but you have no idea how many times you've been my only reason to get out of bed some days.

💫 @lightwoodsmagic - my partner in tinhatting and other crimes against gullible larries. i love hearing your voice first thing in either one of our mornings when we've first woken up and i'm so, so glad you've stuck around and become one of my closest friends.

💫 @moonsidesketch - marisol, mariah carey, richard gere, the most beautiful soul in the universe. if i had to sync up my depression cycles with anyone, i'm glad it was you. i couldn't think of a better person to facetime in complete silence while we both do our respective things until one of us cracks.

💫 @loustyles - the first friend i met through harry and louis, and still one of my favorite people on earth. your brain is so big and you have so much love to give the world. your only flaw is having no impulse control when one of the boys releases something you don't need.

💫 @z3iscoming - who's smart and funny with juuuuuust the right amount of snark to meet me halfway when i need a good vent. you're basically the whole package, babe. (also, i promise i'll start learning your native language one of these days. just nag me a bit and maybe don't let me do the lessons when i'm drunk.)

💫 @genuineconspiracy - i hate you. no i love you. no i hate you. my dude. my friend. my scorpio twin. you are wayyyyyy too smart for anyone on this site, but you always bring forward a lot of hot takes i think would go completely overlooked if you werent around. please stop casually throwing quotes from louis where he's talking about his younger self into conversation. it hurts.

💫 @getalittleclosey - you are so goodhearted, and i love hearing your mini rants on insta dhsjskksks. every time i hear you talk about your hometown i realize that we come from veryyyyy different places but it's still so lovely to know that there's a better world out there somewhere (except the education around there, that's whack).

💫 @canyonemoon - the sweetest person alive? my fellow lover of all things markus zusack? a louie after my own heart? and the person with the cutest accent known to humankind? don't move.

💫 @itsnotreal - my favorite gay who's actually out here thriving in a gay relationship 😌 your cat is adorable and so are you and your gf!

💫 @lahallucinations - my oldest friend who became a larrie right alongside me. i know i've been dickishly absent from practically all communication this year, but in case you doubted it, i love you v v much. i will talk to u about folklore literally whenever you want.

💫 the bratpack from the og larries gc: @ryekat, @habitvevo, @hazloveshisboo, @rhidenae, and @hydro-punk. i know i've been a ghost this year but i really do love and miss you all.

💫 and everyone else who's put a big old smile on my face this year and reminded me why i should stick around: @sunflower-vol14, @babygater, @1dee, @rosepetallarrie, @belovedpetals, @ilouistomlinson, @nympholouis, @queerharry, @bluebandana, @himboniall, @comebacksoonboys, @heyangels, @1dclowns, @onedirectiom, @essercipertuttienonperse, @free-louis, @stanwalls, @stangolden, @leedsau, @halosboat, @blueharryberry, @hoenyy, @lt1lesbian, @goldencerise, @princesshalo, @twoweekrule, @liamslarents, @alloutshirt, @lairport, @garlicdyke, @wrappeditmyslf, @harryssecretmessages, @un1over, @allwaswell16, @lululawrence, @ingenuephan, and so many others.