[sweatforged]

silas. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • prompts.

pedro pascal, homosexual, male + he/him, fighter «—◦—→ well met, silas rivera! the godling born child of kratos. it’s been 45 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. can he change the course of history with their loyalty, protectiveness, + strong will? or will their stubbornness, callousness, short temper hinder them? only time will tell before this godling’s name is sung into myth and legend!

BASIC INFO

full name — Silas Rivera age — forty-five (december 7th) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — homosexual occupation — musician, us army, mma fighter + champion, musician hero ;) deity connection — kratos  class — fighter weapon — tba clothing style / armor — jeans + flannel & layers, so many layers / tba

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Pedro Pascal hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — kinda like a T, broad af shoulders, semi-muscled torso, slutty waist (it be thin ok), everything else is yum scars — a faint one across the bridge of his nose, cut underneath his left eye, many many small ones littered across his body tattoos — notes in the back of his neck (he was grounded forever for getting it) like so, wolf on the inside of his left arm like so, front right thigh like so piercings — ears special characteristics — generally quiet, comes off a little distracted sometimes, will snark without reason, some dare calling him grumpy sexual preference— sorry y'all, this boy's a bottom sub (he thinks he's a switch but he's really not(in bed anyway). don't tell him tho.)

PERSONALITY

alignment — chaotic good positive traits — protective, caring, strong-willed, loyal negative traits — short-tempered, stubborn, callous, grumpy hobbies — training, music, kendo/kenjutsu, cooking, enjoying the quiet

MEDICAL INFO

mental — ptsd physical — when he was younger, he got his shoulder dislocated and his older half-sister thought she could pop it back in. she didn’t and broke his shoulder. he couldn't work for months, nor could he use the bow for even longer, now he can’t lift his right arm as high as the left one still, but only few know phobias — claustrophobia, pisantrophia eyesight — 20/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — left hand drug use — nop alcohol use — no !! diet — healthy, balanced. always makes his own food so he knows what's in it.

BACKGROUND

birthplace — new haven, CT parents — Marin Rivera (mother), Sarah Rivera (step-mother) & Haruhito Shindo (step-father) & Kratos (biological parent). siblings — older sister, Luisa Rivera (she be mortal) pets — floof, stray cat coming by the gym, died in a car crash right outside education — high school drop-out notable skills — krav maga, can wear cowboy hats with anything, can sing, has a mean left hook

BIO

Marin Rivera had everything in life one could wish for. She was born the youngest daughter of a wealthy family, her father dealing with property and her mother a former goddess of ballet. Money - for her, would never be an issue, but money wasn't what Marin craved more than anything in the world. It also wasn't top class education or how many horses she could own, no. What she truly desired was love. Only she wasn't meant to ever find it.

She fell for a man she couldn't have, a man who knew of her desperation and the many digits on her bank account and he saw his chance. His marriage would be a secret for at least two years of their relationship, his wife hidden away downtown, sated and distracted with money he got from naive Marin who saw the world through rose-tinted glasses.

Up until the day she wound up pregnant with a child. Before she could explain, he packed his bags and ran. It wasn't his! But she found out about his wife the day before and believe it or not - heartbreak and alcohol was never a good combination. A beautiful - if rough around the edges stranger approached her and she gave herself to him willingly, if only to forget about the pain for a night.

Silverspoon or not, Marin had only recently turned nineteen, had barely seen the world or found her way in it - too busy chasing a man who clearly was poison for her. So when she came back home, bags packed and head hung low, she was ... well, not quite welcome and yet her parents were grateful she gave them the option to hide her away. If she wanted a chance at a proper husband, she couldn't bring a little boy or girl into this life. No way.

When Silas was born, Marin .. still hoped. She hoped to raise him as her own, given she had lost everything to protect the little boy she held in her arms, but it wasn't going to be her son for long. She was sent abroad to study only a few days later and Silas was raised the youngest Rivera offspring. A miracle, given the age of his "mother". With Marin's bad decisions running in his blood, Silas was watched quite closely. A strong, strict hand would surely do the trick, right?

It didn't.

At first it did, indeed. He grew up with everything onee could possibly want. He pointed at a horse, they got him a horse. He pointed at a man on TV playing the guitar... they got him lessons. It wasn't like Silas missed anything... nothing materialistic anyway. He was signed up for language courses before he could walk and for the longest time .. he did well. When it was still all games and fun. Children's brains are spectacular, aren't they? But the older he grew, the worse it got. Diagnosed with ADHD at the age of six, one would think his parents went easier on him. They did not. Don't let the child get bored, they said. And they didn't.

His father brought in even more for him to learn. Inspired by his own heritage, he felt it useful that Silas was taught in the art of archery, japanese sword fighting and the like. Due to an infinite lack of talent when it came to tea and calligraphy, he was spared in that regard at least. All that set aside, both parents had been raised with a very clear set of rules themselves. Anything less than perfect is a failed opportunity to prove your worth.

All that pressure did not bring forth the expected rewards, in fact - they witnessed the opposite, both in school and at home. He failed time and time again. Far from a social butterfly, Silas ... struggled in school and found himself more enemies than friends, in a way - without trying. Too rich, too spoiled, too slow, too stupid. Silas was a many things, clearly. And at home, he would be ridiculed and lectured on his shortcomings.

They were lucky Silas lasted as many years as he did before he snapped, because no child could thrive under that amount of pressure. When he did snap, he was in school. P.E. was his least favorite time of the day despite him being fitter than every single kid in school simply because there wasn't a single day he didn't break anything. He tried not to. It just .. happened. And then one of the other boys laughed... it wasn't even that he was embarrassed.. it just.. he was tired of it all. He was tired of not belonging, he was tired of scrutinizing eyes on him twenty-four-seven, he was tired of working as hard as he could and still failing.

That kid never laughed at Silas again. In fact, nobody did. Not after the boy spent a month at the hospital, mostly unconscious. The outrage at home... unbearable. But for the first time in his life... he felt content. It lasted a few mere minutes, but he remembered. Sure, music got him to almost that feeling, it did, but it wasn't exactly the same. He'd ... felt peace. And so he chased it. Plenty of kids at school to experiment with. Many of them eager to fight him. Rich kid schools, worse than public in that regard. Most kids were trapped in their family's shadow and knew they needed to perform or else..

And oh, he found that feeling again. And again. Every time his fist connected with a body, every time his knuckles found bone to crack, he felt alive. School was far from happy, but a generous donation had the majority of teachers look away. Or maybe they just didn't care.

Highschool went the exact same way, only Silas was slowly growing into himself. Taller, still incredibly thin, which was the reason he was underestimated regularly, only to then surprise everybody. Silas was convinced people were either born smart or strong; he was definitely the latter, so school was .. a necessity he barely managed, only he never meant to go much further than graduation.

At 19, Silas found out a twisted version of the truth. Marin .. was dead. To him, she was a sister he never met, the one his parents always spoke about, but a guest at the funeral mentioned something he couldn't forget and when he brought it up with his parents, they told him Marin didn't want a child and they never knew the father.

That explained so much. Not even his parents wanted him. His life ... a lie. All of it. That night, Silas grabbed his guitar, packed a bag and ran. Nobody would see him for a long time, but his issues never subsided. Even the US army struggled to contain him, because just like before .. he found plenty of potential victims among those who didn't know to keep their opinions to themselves when he was around. Though he got lucky and found a sponsor among the corporals, one who seemed to be ready to help. Come what may.

Anger management therapy in combination with meditation and straining daily workout sessions seemed to do the trick for a while. Order and guidance instead of pressure seemed .. to work and while beating up punching bags wasn't quite the same thrill, it .. was okay. He even found time for music again.

And then it wasn't okay and he .. had to leave. Again. But this time he wasn't alone. Corporal went with him (and brought his daughter). They built a life for themselves in New Haven, Silas was working as a cleaner at the local gym and Corporal got into the mayor's office, sure to work his way up the ranks quickly. A few months later, first relapse. It should've cost him his job, but .. it didn't. Instead it granted him a new opportunity. Even though it would ultimately cost him his family.

He was battle-trained, had spent the majority of his life training so becoming an MMA fighter sure.. sounded like a great opportunity even though he was too old to properly get into it, they said. Silas didn't care. One, because he knew he could and two, because he didn't care about prizes, the knowledge that he could thrive in doing the one thing he was truly good at.. that was all he needed.

When he won his first title only a few years later, nobody could believe it, really. And then he held it. Year after year. The Lion - as they called him, stood strong. Silas was growing older and he was getting closer and closer to that age, at which point he was considered too old to contest, even though he felt fine and stronger than ever, the constant training sure wearing down his body's reserves, but ... his will remained unbroken and his performance unbeaten. Rules and regulations were merciless. He held several titles until he retired and returned to the gym in teeny tiny little New Haven, which felt ...lacking after he'd seen the world, so he once again packed his bags, grabbed his guitar and moved to Los Angeles.

Part of him regretted the choice he made. Fame for family. But at the end of the day he knew it'd been for the best. They were better off without him, surely. Being single wasn't so bad either. Being somewhat famous ... surely helped potential hookups look past his lack of social ... affinity. It also helped pushing his career as a musician up to the point of semi-regular income with little gigs and a few released albums. Life was .. going.

That was until he found out the truth.

The actual truth.

Obvious choice, wasn't it? He had nothing to lose.

[thewaythisis]

Gladiator II

[sweatforged]

silas  could  feel  his  skin  crawl,  goosebumps  spreading  from  where  the  dark  all  but  hugged  his  body.  it  felt  cold,  but  ...  not  in  a  painful  way  -  not  for  him.  not  like  it  did  when  the  cold  outside  bit  into  your  skin.  it  was  different.  it  was  familiar.  it  felt  cold  &  yet  he  felt  warm.  jesse  had  his  back  &  the  dummy  impaled  on  his  wings  only  added  to  that  feeling.  the  son  of  nyx  would  always  have  his  back  while  silas  kept  the  frontline  busy.  no  puns  intended  whatsoever.  wings  fluttered  to  throw  off  the  dummy,  hands  lifted  as  the  cold  spread  across  his  body  even  more.  "yes,  sir."  the  kratos  born  grinned,  stomping  back  over  to  the  other  dummies,  some  makeshift  to  satisfy  his  need  to  train  more  than  one  or  two  stolen  requested  dummy  could  take,  some  not.

in  a  flurry  of  darkness,  quick  &  deadly,  he  threw  himself  right  into  the  group  of  dummies  -  punch,  punch,  kick,  punch.  he  wouldn't  tire,  at  least  not  for  a  while.  not  until  sweat  mixed  with  blood  &  he  no  longer  felt  fueled  by  the  other's  trust  in  him.  every  punch  came  with  a  grunt  &  left  cuts  behind,  oozing  with  darkness,  every  kick  was  followed  by  a  loud  thud,  darkness  exploding  upon  impact  &  wings  sending  out  blades  whenever  his  body  turned  sharply  with  each  swing  to  a  different  dummy.  the  last  punch  came  with  a  little  yell,  sending  it  to  the  ground.  silas  was  panting,  sweat  pooled  on  his  forehead  &  his  pulse  surely  going  haywire.  "that...  what  you  hoped  for?"

[bornatnightt]

Jesse kept careful eyes on his movements, flying and moving his hands with the blades so every and each one of them hit true, feeling darkness and cold explode and spread with repeated impact and... Silas, he could feel Silas, wrapped within darkness, like his own arms were holding him, shielding him, guiding his fists and spreading his wings so no one could reach him. The smirk on his lips widened, heart racing, sweat dripping down his forehead as he kept his focus up even when Silas made it so damn hard. "Good boy." He said, not one to be outdone, watching as he massacred the dummies, a flurry of fists and darkness, spreading across the room, pure power tied together, destructive yet protective.

He was ready to test it out there, see how much they could do when they put it all together. Jesse drifted down slowly, darkness receding, feet hovering over the ground as he looked at Silas, exhausted on the ground. "It's a good start." He teased, caressing his cheek, the dummies destroyed at their feet. "For the next part we'll probably need a bed." That would probably not help keep him focused, but Jesse was only just a man.

[sweatforged]

THE END.

[bornatnightt]

Jesse chuckles... Thoughts drifting, eyes wandering, then he refocuses on the task at hand. Darkness, covering and gripping, shielding, arming. "I always have enough darkness in me, darling." He says, thick Scottish accent as Silas punches through a dummy, blades sticking into the fabrics digging in deeper, burrowing as Jesse flies around, hands twisting and pulling as he tries to concentrate on those hits and make the little blades of darkness explode on another impact of those heavy fists.

"Next." He says, but instead of letting Silas go to the next he pulls at the dummy with a thread of inky black shadows, throwing it against his back only to have it pierced whole with the blades now covering his wings. Jesse smiles, letting it drop to the ground as shadows climb back up over Silas, protecting him and embracing him like they did Jesse.

"Go on then, wrap this up..." He says, pointing at the other dummies. There is still enough heat for a few more punches.

[sweatforged]

silas  could  feel  his  skin  crawl,  goosebumps  spreading  from  where  the  dark  all  but  hugged  his  body.  it  felt  cold,  but  ...  not  in  a  painful  way  -  not  for  him.  not  like  it  did  when  the  cold  outside  bit  into  your  skin.  it  was  different.  it  was  familiar.  it  felt  cold  &  yet  he  felt  warm.  jesse  had  his  back  &  the  dummy  impaled  on  his  wings  only  added  to  that  feeling.  the  son  of  nyx  would  always  have  his  back  while  silas  kept  the  frontline  busy.  no  puns  intended  whatsoever.  wings  fluttered  to  throw  off  the  dummy,  hands  lifted  as  the  cold  spread  across  his  body  even  more.  "yes,  sir."  the  kratos  born  grinned,  stomping  back  over  to  the  other  dummies,  some  makeshift  to  satisfy  his  need  to  train  more  than  one  or  two  stolen  requested  dummy  could  take,  some  not.

in  a  flurry  of  darkness,  quick  &  deadly,  he  threw  himself  right  into  the  group  of  dummies  -  punch,  punch,  kick,  punch.  he  wouldn't  tire,  at  least  not  for  a  while.  not  until  sweat  mixed  with  blood  &  he  no  longer  felt  fueled  by  the  other's  trust  in  him.  every  punch  came  with  a  grunt  &  left  cuts  behind,  oozing  with  darkness,  every  kick  was  followed  by  a  loud  thud,  darkness  exploding  upon  impact  &  wings  sending  out  blades  whenever  his  body  turned  sharply  with  each  swing  to  a  different  dummy.  the  last  punch  came  with  a  little  yell,  sending  it  to  the  ground.  silas  was  panting,  sweat  pooled  on  his  forehead  &  his  pulse  surely  going  haywire.  "that...  what  you  hoped  for?"

[riepu10]

Pedro Pascal as General Acacius Behind the scenes Gladiator II (x)

[oceanfoams]

"well," hunter shakes off the excess water from his little plunge into the deep, carding a hand through his locks. "i got this power where i can pop in n' out of pockets of water. kinda like goin' down a really quick waterslide. guess i went a little too fast." it wasn't his first time using it, but certainly it was the first time he'd popped out so violently.

"but 'sides that, i can fly. kinda." drawing his blades, they grant him the ability to raise off the ground, quickly stumbling back to his feet. "i think i ain't got my flight wings yet, like it better here on the ground."

[sweatforged]

taking  a  few  steps  backwards  to  avoid  getting  wet  when  the  young  godling  shook  himself  dry  -  reminding  him  of  the  way  taj,  his  crup  pup  would  do  it  when  he  came  into  a  rainshower  on  accident.  jumping  -  or  rather  flying  sons  of  poseidon  were  a  curious  happenstance,  though  silas  didn't  really  care  who  did  ..  what.  or  why.  everybody  training  to  perfect  their  abilities  was  good  in  his  book.

"flyin'  takes  gettin'  used  to,  but  you're  gonna  get  there."  silas  had  been  adamant  not  to  let  his  wings  take  him  off-ground  &  the  first  few  weeks  had  been  abysmal,  but  now  he  couldn't  imagine  a  different  way  to  live.  "an'  you're  probably  gonna  fall.  a  lot."  would  show  what  he  was  made  from.  fancy  parent  or  not,  they  all  had  to  prove  they  were  more  than  just  their  parent.

[bornatnightt]

jesse's fingers brushed the black feathers on silas' outstretched wings. "well, not this one... at least, not now. i can think of a few uses for a shadow clone of yours..." he teases, toying with the feathers before he steps back slightly, hovering above the ring as he flies around silas. "now you just stay there and look pretty for me, let's see what you can do with a little bit of darkness in you." he tried not to think too much about his darkness slowly drifting towards silas, slithering on the ground then climbing over his feet, his legs. he needed to focus and not crack jokes or think about venom.

"the idea is covering up your wrists with something to leave behind when you do those nasty punches, ye?" he asks, drifting in front of him as the darkness climbs, slithering into his wrists like veins until they reach his hand and make it pitch black, as jesse's fingers brush bruised knuckles they sharpen like daggers coming out of silas' hands.

"perhaps the wings can be of help in that too..." he goes back behind him, lets darkness coat the soft feathers, pitch black going darker, sharper, deadlier. it almost looks like... if he were to jump silas, he'd be covered in stabbing wounds. which is exactly what he wants to happen to anyone trying to land a hit on his--yeah.

"now show me what you can do."

[sweatforged]

silas  is  -  as  meant  to  be,  at  jesse's  mercy.  wings  stretched  wide  behind  him,  exposed  &  weak  against  a-many  things.  including  his  charm,  but  more  so  the  fingers  brushing  through  them.  soft  shiver  coursed  through  him,  wings  fluttering  in  delight  -  of  comfortable  discomfort.  both.  "i  dunno  if  that's  the  kinda  combo  we're  tryin'  to  work  on."  he  knew  jesse  enough  to  know  where  his  mind  was  going  with  the  shadow  clone  idea  &  while  silas  would  ...not  be  opposed  per  se,  this  wasn't  the  place  or  time  for  this.  well,  they  were  alone,  so  maybe  it  was,  but  ...  not  now.  "...in  me,  huh."  wouldn't  be  the  first  time.  or  the  last.  cracking  a  little  grin  regardless  of  his  efforts  to  remain  ...unbothered,  silas  would  like  to  announce  that  all  this  was  jesse's  influence  on  him  &  he  definitely  couldn't  be  blamed  for  his  mind  wandering  at  a  certain  kind  of  comments.

he,  too,  watched  the  darkness  slither  towards  him,  sucked  in  a  sharp  breath  when  it  slithered  up  his  body,  inch  by  inch  until  it  reached  his  arms,  practically  merging  with  his  body,  dark  veins  pulsing  through  raised  fists,  which  feel  normal  even  though  they  didn't  look  it.  jesse's  touch  was  gentle  -  it  always  was,  yet  it  halted  each  &  every  thought  silas  might've  had.  nasty  punches  coming  right  up.  "yeah."  little  nod,  fingers  flexing  -  fist,  no  fist.  fist,  no  fist.  looked  pretty  nasty  to  him.  he  couldn't  wait  to  take  them  for  a  test  drive.  neck  craned  to  look  behind  him,  he  could  see  his  feathers  change,  now  coated  in  dark  -  though  they'd  been  dark  to  begin  with  so  that  wasn't  a  huge  change  just  yet.  wings  stretched  once  more,  sharp,  vicious  &  dripping  with  darkness.  they  felt  a  bit  heavier,  but  ..not  heavy  enough  to  pull  him  down.  "sure  you  got  enough  darkness  left  for  yourself?"  silas  shot  jesse  a  little  grin  before  going  for  a  punch  at  the  training  dummy  he'd  managed  to  get  for  his  gym,  too,  so  that  he  could  practice  away  from  the  battlegrounds,  too.

fists  flew  with  their  usual  familiar  swing  to  them  &  he  could  feel  the  difference  upon  impact;  sharp  ...  compared  to  blunt  -  dark  blades  cutting  proverbial  flesh  with  ease. god, yes.

[isleofheroes]

Evan lately had been spending some of his nights at the tavern, mostly having a nice meal, a good drink and sitting in one of the booths relaxing as he scrolled through his phone, but as the friendly giant made his way into the tavern like any other night, he noticed Silas right away. The two have talked here and there, as well as trained together for time to time and he very much enjoyed the company of the other, another Godling who's parent was all about fighting and strength, they come from similar fields and it just made sense to make friends with the Son of Kratos. Grabbing two ales, Evan made his way over to the older male, pushing a stein over to the Godling before plopping a squat in the booth seat across from him, " Hey Si!" Evan chimed, " Hope you don't mind, figured i should pay you back for your help in training, how have you been?" Closed Starter for: @sweatforged

[sweatforged]

silas  was  not  a  regular  at  the  bar  -  or  any  bar  for  that  matter,  but  some  nights  he  wanted  to  be  somewhere  else;  away  from  the  training  grounds  &  the  underground  gym  of  the  kratos  cabin  &  even  the  comfortable  dark  of  the  nyx  cabin  he'd  made  his  home  in  these  days.  places  buzzing  with  life  were  perfect  for  that  -  loud  enough  to  keep  his  thoughts  from  running  amuck  &  crowded  enough  for  him  to  neither  feel  alone  nor  comfortable  enough  to  want  to  do  this  again  for  a  long  time.  win,  win.  he  could've  invited  jesse,  but  he  didn't,  he  assumed  the  son  of  nyx  would  enjoy  some  alone  time  for  once.

so  he  was  sat  alone  when  the  son  of  heracles  approached  him,  the  stein  was  eyed  crucially  before  assessed  &  filed  aside  for  later.  though  a  nodded  thank  you  was  sent  the  young  demigod's  way  nonetheless.  "you  don't  owe  me,  kid.  trainin'  goes  both  ways,  y'know.  's  good  for  both  of  us."  though  he  appreciated  the  sentiment  regardless.  "same  old,  same  old."  he  got  engaged,  but  silas  wasn't  going  to  parade  that  new  ring  on  his  finger  around  ...he  wasn't  like  that.  "what  about  you,  slain  any  dragons  lately?  saved  any  virgins?"

[rifflovesjoey]

It's insane to look this hot from behind. wtf.

[bornatnightt]

@sweatforged sent "i like it when you take control"

jesse smirks in the darkness of the nyx cabin, black silk sheets crumpled beneath silas' naked body, sweat over bare skin, legs spread with a deft hand on his ankle, the other holding his wrists above his head, binding them to the headboard with nothing but darkness.

"oh really?" he asks, pulling his legs up as he settles above silas, necklace caressing the bare skin of his chest as he looks into his eyes, loving the feeling and sight of him spread out beneath him. "i would never have guessed that..."

leaning down for a kiss, jesse lets his hard cock brush against silas' ass, drowning happily in his scent, in his heat, but not taking it further yet. he's teased him well enough so far and he has no intention to stop so soon. "wanna tell me what you want now?" he asks, before pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth. he would smirk deviously if he could, but this was a much better use to his mouth.

[sweatforged]

little  grunt,  brows  pulled  together  -  knowing  fair  well  there  was  no  hiding  in  the  dark  when  the  son  of  nyx  was  involved,  though  due  to  liyana's  skill  -  neither  was  with  him.  he  never  thought  one  of  his  greatest  concerns  would  be  seeing  in  the  dark,  never  thought  he'd  feel  home  within  it.  or  within  another  person's  arms.  wrists  above  his  head,  tied  by  none  other  than  jesse  himself,  but  silas  felt  no  hesitation.  the  dark  was  no  longer  a  construct  of  fear.

"an'  still  you  always  ask."  jesse  loved  making  him  say  things  no  man  should  ever  say  &  no  man  should  be  held  accountable  for  not  feeling  comfortable  saying  them  &  yet  jesse  ...  did.  but  at  this  point  ...  silas  didn't  mind  too  much  anymore;  their  time  well-spent  whenever  it  was  just  them  involved.  he  knew  the  reward  was  worth  the  sacrifice.

"you."  once  upon  a  time  jesse  asked  him  the  very  same  thing  &  silas  ...  struggled.  big  time.  that  was  ...  a  long  time  ago,  though  he  would  still  say  he  struggled  to  some  extent.  he  knew  that  answer  was  not  what  jesse  wanted,  but  maybe  he  felt  like  saying  it  regardless  -  in  case  the  most  obvious  wasn't  ...obvious  enough.  lips  against  his  own  were  leverage  enough  to  pry  more  words  from  his  lips,  as  was  jesse  between  his  legs  truth  be  told.  eyes  on  the  son  of  nyx's,  piercing  through  the  dark  with  little  effort,  he  let  them  avert  the  other  man's  gaze  at  the  very  last  second,  "fuck  me,  please."

[russianblush]

JOEL MILLER in every scene — 10/?

[pedrorascal]

The Last of Us Day Official Teaser

[athenianwit]

archimedes wasn't the first animal atticus had but this was so much more difficult than owning a pet. he was fiercly independent and far more adventurous than atticus would have liked, boldly approaching strangers to interact with them and atticus had to get onto him constantly to respect boundaries. olympia, his crupp pup, was far more timid and anxious than archimedes and was well behaved. still, atticus understood the difference. the owl was a companion, someone who had a psychic link to him.

just as he was about to continue scolding archimedes for acting in such a way like this, silas and what appeared to be a giant bear approached them. it didn't take a genius to figure out that this had to be his companion, it made sense considering silas was a fighter and who his father was. a bear was perfect for him, actually. "of course." he said as the child of kratos sat across from him and the young cub sat on the floor at the end of the table, relaxed now that it had the meat silas gave it. "silas, this is archimedes." he introduced the two, his owls eyes widened at the sight of the other demigod and extended its head to get a closer look. "you're lucky, this is him behaving. he tried making a nest out of a nymph's hair this morning."

[sweatforged]

at  this  point,  silas  had  a  little  zoo  at  his  cabin  &  truth  be  told  -  he  didn't  want  it  any  other  way.  silas  felt  much  more  comfortable  in  the  company  of  animals  rather  than  people.  when  he  got  back  to  his  cabin  &  curious  eyes  greeted  him  by  the  door,  life  was  good.  not  that  life  wasn't  good  in  general,  but  ..yeah.  it  was  better  like  this.  he  adored  them  all.  dante  was  a  irreplaceable  addition  to  that  zoo;  made  from  his  heart's  plea  &  sent  to  aid  him  (maybe  heal  his  bleeding  heart,  too).  silas  couldn't  say  if  it  worked  yet,  but  he  would  die  for  the  cub  (both  his  cubs)  -  no  questions  asked.

seeing  others  with  their  own  little  miracles  brought  a  warmth  to  his  heart.  an  owlett  seemed  perfect  for  atticus.  "hello  archimedes."  he  offered  a  little  smile,  tempted  to  offer  some  of  his  food  as  well  -  he  ...was  soft  for  animals,  what  could  he  say?  but  this  wasn't  his  pet  to  spoil,  so  he'd  behave.  for  now.  "guess  i'm  lucky  my  hair's  too  short  for  a  nest."  brushing  a  hand  through  said  hair  to  ensure  it  felt  too  short  indeed,  he  couldn't  help  a  little  chuckle.  he  thought  dante  demanding  to  sleep  in  his  bed  every  night  was  a  hassle,  though...  it  really  wasn't.

otherwise  he  was  well-behaved  ..for  a  bear  cub.  hand  on  its  head,  scritching  gently  until  the  little  cub  raised  its  head  to  offer  its  chin,  "meet  dante."  nobody  in  camp  knew  the  meaning  of  that  name  for  him;  what  the  cub  stood  for,  maybe  one  day  he'd  share.  "dante,  that's  atticus."  leaning  over  to  put  his  forehead  against  the  cub's,  'we  like  him  a  lot.  be  nice, don't eat the bird, okay?'

[sweatforged]

[oceanfoams]

"fancy... meetin' you here." hunter was certainly grateful to have fallen into the arms of a strong man, he didn't think he would've made it out in one piece if he ended up falling atop one of the lankier guys. with a gentle grin, he flashes an apologetic look as he regains his bearings.

"sorry 'bout that, i was just gettin' some practice in and... well, you seen me flyin'." rubbing at the back of his neck, he feels a bit bad. "thank you, i owe ya one big time. uh... nice wings."

[sweatforged]

setting  the  flying  fish  boy  down,  silas  stretched  a  little.  he  didn't  think  they  actually  ever  spoke  before.  did  they?  maybe  within  group  boundaries,  but  not  alone  -  not  like  this.  well,  the  circumstances  were  special  anyway,  so  it  wasn't  exactly  comparable,  he'd  say.  but  still.

"thanks.  they're  quite  handy."  they  were.  he  ...was  grateful  he  had  them,  really.  even  though  he  wasn't  too  good  with  them  at  the  start  simply  due  to  his  dislike  for  heights.  "'s  fine  by  the  way.  how'd  you  get  up  there  anyway?"  wasn't  he  supposed  to...  well,  do  water  things?  he  had  no  business  up  in  the  air  -  that  was  his  territory.

[pedrorascal]

[bornatnightt]

jesse caressed his hair, the white highlighted in the dark, mouth pressing kisses along his chin and his cheek as he nuzzled the soft man. "why?" he questioned, pulling away to look at the creases in his brow.

why did he say it? why didn't he say the whole thing? why they danced around this so much? there was a lot to unpack on the best of days. this was, probably, not the best of days but those were a rare thing.

getting rarer, probably.

jesse sighed again, pulling further away as he turned his back to silas. "think we should really use our words this time, darlin'."

[sweatforged]

leave  it  to  jesse  to  calm  him  down;  skin  against  skin,  warmth  shared  between  two  bodies.  it  was  comfortable  despite  the  mental  turmoil,  it  was  calming...  it  was  nice.

&  then  jesse  pulled  away,  eyes  on  his  own  -  silas  felt  his  body  stiffen,  frozen  like  a  deer  in  headlights.  courage  from  before  ...  gone.  he  wasn't  good  at  this  shit.  but  he  ...  asked.  he  was  trying.  why  be  stuck  in  the  not-knowing  when  they  could  ..be  better  than  this.  honest  with  each  other  -  with  themselves.  unless  silas'  truth  was  not  jesse's.  which  was  ...  one  of  the  reasons  he  hesitated  so  much.  sometimes  the  truth  ...  better  remained  unspoken.  he  knew  that,  but  hope  fueled  him  regardless.  that  &  terror.  but  he  tried  to  not  let  it  show.

think  we  should  really  use  our  words  this  time.

well,  he  was  trying.  but  staring  at  the  son  of  nyx's  back...  wasn't  helping.  why  were  they  so  bad  at  this?  he  did  know,  though,  that  distance  was  not  accepted,  so  he  crawled  closer  again  on  the  bed  to  let  himself  flop  against  jesse's  back.  they  didn't  have  to  look  at  each  other,  fine,  but  …  he  wanted  this  at  least.   "our  ...  other  ...us...  they  really  had  it  all  figured  out,  huh?"  meanwhile  they  couldn't  even  have  a  proper  talk.