#Simarkus deserved Better...

[gerald33martin]

Unpopular Opinion: North is overrated and horrible

all she does is kill humans and use Markus as a tool to get revenge on humans, manipulating him for most of the game, and she is a narcissistic sociopath who only thinks about herself, as shown in her Leader arc when she doesn't care about her people who are running away from their impending defeat "What are you doing?! Keep fighting!!" and when the android that looks like her dies crying after meeting her 10 minutes ago but has no problem shooting Simon in the face, people blindly defend her trying to justify all her actions when it's indefensible and in all her interactions and dialogues she presents herself for who she is, people call Gavin Reed "racist" when North is way worse in this regard, but most seem to ignore the fact that she only looks at her point of view, never anyone else's, as if she's suffered more than anyone else, which is what Zlatko's androids, Kara, Traci Hairy Blue and orange, Alice, Josh and Markus himself have done the most and are not like North, this is not an excuse and I'm so tired of these people sweeping the dust under the rug trying to ignore it.

If you want to like North, like her, but at least accept her for all her faults. She’s immature, selfish, manipulative and violent. So if you like that, then be proud of it, not trying to turn her into someone she obviously is not to suit your own ego.

[littlehaize]

[starryeyedstray]

random dbh ships as songs

these songs are all on my rk1k playlist (with the exception of the last one), but some of them definitely suit other ships better so enjoy my subjective takes

RK1K I Like It by Stray Kids it was tough to pick one so i just picked one that's also one of my all-time favorite songs. this is the "it's complicated, maybe we shouldn't be together but i really like being together" vibe. very will they, won't they which feels rk1k-coded since deviant hunter and deviant leader ending up together??? the press would go crazy.

NORKUS Partners in Crime (feat. Ash Costello) by Set It Off like iconic crime duo that are ride-or-dies just screams norkus

AMANACONDA No Mercy by DeathbyRomy connor x amanda is a hella rarepair but THINK OF THE POTENTIAL PPL!!!! it's the best toxic relationship out there in dbh and this song just encapsulates the vibes (this is also revolution rk1k-coded)

RK1900 Pretty Boy by Naethan Apollo what can i say? they're just 3 pretty boys that want to be the other pretty boy's favorite pretty boy. ultimate pining love triangle turned polycule

SIMARKUS 2WORLDS - Demo Version by Madge "if you give me a piece of your heart" LIKE C'MON IT'S JUST WORKS (this works for norkus too)

SICON Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra i imagine this is a post-game world where connor finds simon at the top of stratford and they both feel conflicted and regretful about how their first meeting ended up

LUTHARA Bullet (Vampire Redux) by Ryan Star honestly, this works for any ship that has a self-sacrificial idiot (cough markus and connor cough). but i picked it for luthara bc you can choose as markus or connor to not sacrifice yourself but luther will ALWAYS sacrifice himself to save kara and alice

CONNIEL You're Not Welcome by Naethan Apollo okay this one isn't really "ship" vibes but more like post-game daniel is fucking pissed at connor for killing him and he hates connor's guts and doesn't think he deserves a place in jericho (verse 2 really sells this idea). i imagine it could eventually spiral into a real slow burn enemies to lovers LMAO

CHLORTH She Likes a Boy by Nxdia chloe meets north not realizing north is a bisexual icon so she totally has a chance (this works for literally any north ship)

sorry all these ships lean a bit on the connor side. i'm biased!!!

[rumithe]

been a very long time since my last post here, but I hope whoever sees this post have a good life x)!

Several things happened in the last months and I've been struggling about my feelings for this ship and everything in the fandom. Content below can be reaally emotional (imma typical INFP), if you're interested in the video, you can just skip and go watch it xD

I made some videos during the 3 years I spent in this fandom, and I learnt a lot truly - I tried tools I once never thought I'd know how to use and I had never been that passionate and creative for any other characters like I had to Simon. And of course I met a lot of good and talent people here... and yeah I miss you guys.

Despite my inactivity here, I was relatively active in the fandom here in China trying to find some people who simp Simon (also Daniel, Kamski) too, sad there were just so few, and those who did left the fandom soon enough eventually or remain mostly inactive, still I'm glad they showed up and motivated me to make more works for Simon. Maybe that's lucky enough for a fandom (or specifically for Simon) that had its glory back in 2018.

However, the truth is that I'm slipping out of dbh fandom and I'm sure I have good reasons for it, most to do with my mental state and part to do with some of Cage's shitty speech, but maybe up to this day I just decide that I shouldn't care anymore. Sometimes I felt my love deliberately contempted by the creator of my beloved character and it's been hard for me to continue this way, but I still miss that person I'd been two years ago when I could spent almost every night creating works for him out of love.

This is the very first simarkus video I made and now there're 3 versions of it. The first one is crude, the second one is still my favorite, because I made it when I loved this ship more than anything. My editing skills are much better now, so I like the color of the third one x) It makes Simon's eyes look so pure blue.

I don't know if I'd make another video for them or post another thing on this acc. I initially planned to remake every Simarkus video I'd ever done, but after finishing this one I found it just took too much of me. Maybe when I'm better or have more inspirations, I'll do them one by one. If no and this is the last one, I wish everyone good afternoon, good evening and good night.

Thank you for loving them and especially for loving Simon, he deserves more than I can give him, 'cuz I still love him.

[i-am-jano-shipper]

Can someone please tell me why the hell there is the option to have “companion” relationship status with anyone if it doesn’t matter? When I first played DBH back in the summer of 2018, I fucking screamed when I saw Markus’s relationship with Simon level up to that point because I was dead sure I would be able to spread the guy like warm butter in a later chapter. And then it turned out to have zero meaning? I have three “companions” and I can only romance one cause someone decided I’m playing heterosexually? Fuck that. A game about choices and they didn’t make it even a tad bit dating simulator. Like, we could’ve had the option to have Simon show up to the rooftop before the Freedom March if his relationship status with Markus was higher than North’s. I wouldn’t give a fuck if the talking points were all the same except for the story about Simon’s past. Oh and by the way, we don’t know shit about Simon’s past! We don’t even have the option to! Not to mention North and Markus make minus six sense when you play pacifist, because to me it really looks like the standard case of two straight people getting together when they have absolutely nothing in common. And I’m not saying this because I “don’t like straight people” or whatever homophobes say when they see queer people fighting for representation, I actually think North and Markus look nice and I rarely say that about heterosexual ships, but they only make sense when their views are similar. My Markus is a pacifist and I would like for him to be dating a pacifist, a person who understands him and can truly support him. And by that I mean Simon. The fact that we don’t have that option makes me bitter to no end. Had Hank and Connor kissed in the post-credits scene and Simarkus been at least an option, I swear to god I would’ve bought three copies of that fucking PS4 disk for every instance of queerness this game would’ve had.

[lesbiten]

i care him a whole very lot

[voidex]

Can’t get enough of these sweet boys.

[blepbean]

Hello I miss them

“Will you come with me?” he asked. The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. 

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes.” 

Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

[lesbianwyllravengard]

rules: tag 9 some people you want to know better and/or catch up with, then answer the questions below! — tagged by @browneyeslouis <333

Last Song: Infections of a Different Kind by Aurora

Three Ships: Simarkus (absolutely nothing better than them. Most healthy happy beautiful while simultaneously most heartbreaking lovers). Second uhh Chloenorth superiority. I've decided to lead that parade now bc reed900 gets all the attention and they don't deserve it. The girls do tho. Third ship is bagginshield

Currently Reading: book wise, I started The Ones We Burn by Rebecca Mix, haven't touched it in two months but I like it. Fic wise, I'm rereading Leading by Example by Kurana again😭

Last Movie: Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Craving: va- no I shan't say

I'm not gonna tag anyone bc I know I'll forget someone and feel awful about it but if you see this it's because I wanna know so pls join and say I tagged you <333

[arkitiore]

Hi! Congratulations for the 350 followers, you def deserve it! 💙 Would you be comfortable writing a short domestic fluff Simarkus for the event? If not, something sweet for Jericrew would be nice (like them having a movie night or something). Have a nice day!

thank you <3 and ohhh i always love domestic fluff! Here you go! :) I hope you like it:

“Two O’clock”

 Simon startled from his thoughts as the voice appeared from the doorway, shifting his attention away from the potted plant he had been gazing at contemplatively.

 “...Excuse me?”

 Markus rolled his eyes and leaned a hip against the door frame, crossing his arms over his t-shirt clad chest with a smirk.

 “You said you’d be finished for the day by two o’clock. It's almost three am now and here you are…still decorating”

 Simon turned his attention away from Markus again, reaching back out towards the potted fern in order to shift it five centimetres to the left…and then ten centimetres to the right.

 “Well I’d prefer not to stop until everything is completely finished, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable in the house if it was perfect?”

 Markus pushed off the door frame to saunter towards Simon and wrap his arms around the other android from behind, enclosing his hands within his own in order to gently prise them away from the plant pot while hooking his chin over the PL600’s shoulder.

 “It already is perfect to me” He spoke with a sly smile.

 “Perfect?! I haven’t even started on the study yet, there are bare walls and sheets everywhere, its a disaster! How is that perfect?!”

 Markus tucked his face further into the crook of the other androids neck, breathing the scent of him in deeply.

 “because you’re in it”

 Simon scoffed loudly and rounded on Markus with a sharp look while holding out a paint stained finger to point directly at the nose of the other.

 “Flattery is not going to get you anywhere. Don’t be absurd. The house will be perfect when I say it's perfect”

 Markus took a step back, laughing. They had moved into the property a week ago and Simon had barely taken a moment to himself since starting on renovations. The RK200 had initially been full of light hearted jabs about the other's domestic programming going haywire and making him act like a nesting bird but he had stopped with the comments after once had made Simons face suddenly fall and grow silent.  He had explained that his fervour for decorating was being brought on by excitement, not programming. That he had never imagined in his whole life that he would have these things he found himself with, a home, a partner, freedom…and that having that house, having a home, that was theirs, was achieving a dream he had never even allowed himself to consider before.

 The comment had struck Markus, hard. The RK200 realised that he too, even during their long bid for freedom and rights, had never actually allowed himself to picture where they found themselves now, too afraid that the dream would be ripped away by one wrong move. Yet there they were, being domestic in their own home. It was hard to wrap his head around sometimes.

 But Markus had also meant what he had said, sappy as it had come across. He would have been happy to live out the rest of his days in that old freighter if he had had Simon by his side the whole time.

 “Okay, okay.” Markus relented putting his hands out flat “I’m not asking you to stop for the night but how about you take a short break with me? Just a little one. A tiny one.”

 Simon tilted his head in consideration, shifting his gaze from Markus to the Fern and back again.

 “I need someone to test out the new sofa with me” The RK200 urged. “I can't do that properly by myself”

 A small smile began to grow on Simons lips.

 “Well, I suppose if it's in the name of home testing and improvement I can spare a small moment of my time…But twenty minutes tops!”

 Markus chuckled at the last minute addition to the sentence with a roll of his eyes but twenty minutes was better than nothing. He’d take what he could get of the other's time. He held a hand out for the PL600 to take, giving it a brief squeeze before beginning to try and herd him towards the living room.

 “Wait, Wait!”

 As they were passing the threshold Simon looked back over his shoulder and halted them in their tracks. He let go of Markus hand to march back towards the plant and boldly move it a whole ten inches to the right and looked at it for a moment before giving a decisive nod of his head and returned to the RK200 where he was waiting to get on route to the living room.

 “Perfect?” Markus inquired

 “Perfect.” Got requests?

[brokenjardaantech]

the resurrected, cherished

written for @latexkaktus‘ birthday and also a prompt fill for @rk1700events. Week 2: rebirth/create; week 3: natural state.

pairings: rk1700, background simarkus

summary: 

All he can think about right now is how beautiful his predecessor looks with his skin gone, his legs below his knees non-existent, his entire chassis dirty and grimy with other trash in the landfill. Doesn’t matter now, though, because he is bringing him home, taking him back to his side where the RK800 belongs.

content warning: smut, rough sex, limb removal, egg connor and nines

this is a sequel of only me, for you.

also on ao3

---

Despite the fact that he is an advanced prototype, it took RK900 days searching and compulsively scanning the landfill to find the body he was looking for. Digging it out took a few more days during which he nearly overheated his processors calculating the best solution to let him free the body without a mountain of dead androids and biocomponents burying him, but at long last, the damaged body is fully revealed and can be transported as he wishes. As per standard procedure for android disposal - at least, before the war - Connor’s clothing was stripped, his limbs were broken, and his thirium pump damaged but not exactly removed before being transported to the solid waste landfill, treated without dignity, like an object, like something worthless. At least, that is what RK900 thinks he should think.

All he can think about right now is how beautiful his predecessor looks with his skin gone, his legs below his knees non-existent, his entire chassis dirty and grimy with other trash in the landfill. Doesn’t matter now, though, because he is bringing him home, taking him back to his side where the RK800 belongs. 

His nose wrinkles in a very human display of disgust as he climbs the slope formed by a mixture of android chassis and stray biocomponents and other large, sturdy rubbish, but even with an entire body strapped onto his back, he uses his pre-construction programme to calculate the best path and manages to scale it quickly, emerging from the valley relatively clean and without further injuring himself. He sees some other androids with incomplete bodies trying to climb the slope to no avail, but they aren’t his responsibility, and he is sure that Markus will sort them out sooner or later; there is a war going on, and they will need all the manpower they can get as the frontline lengthens and branches out from Detroit.

As a reward for his effort towards the revolution, Markus finally permitted him to get back what he deserves. ‘I would prefer to restore him to normal function,’ the leader of the revolution said. ‘We need whatever we have.’

‘But you have me, a better him,’ RK900 didn’t understand Markus’ insistence then and neither does he understand it now. ‘You don’t need him.’

‘I do,’ the other RK model retorted, his eyes seemingly glaring straight into RK900’s very soul even though he shouldn’t have any. ‘He won’t need to be accessible 24/7. I just need to be able to talk to him for a few hours at a time at most. Another perspective that we can use.’

‘How often?’

‘However often I want to.’

The door opened at that moment to admit Simon, and the filthy, noisy kiss he exchanged with Markus was enough of a cue for RK900 to leave the room or he would be watching the two fuck on the desk not a minute later, their moans loud enough to be heard two rooms down the hall. The RK series was created to be state-of-the-art and efficient; Markus is no exception when it comes to getting what he wants.

RK900 supposes that this is yet another sign that he ignored. 

But he isn’t going to reactivate Connor immediately, no. Instead, he takes the body back to the apartment allotted to him when Detroit had finally fallen under the androids’ control, and then he starts working, first wiping off the topmost layer of dirt from the bare chassis so that he can access the damaged areas easier, then patching up the bullet wounds Connor sustained on the day he tried to infiltrate CyberLife Tower and failed drastically, then taking off his limbs properly before sealing the gaps off so that no further unwanted materials will enter a space where they don’t belong. He then runs a bath and takes a soft sponge to wash away the remaining stubborn grime from Connor’s body, the water turning grey, the white of his chassis slowly returning, and he follows it by drying Connor off with a soft towel, because despite his predecessor’s lack of response and life, he only uses the best of everything on him. Markus will probably say that this is a waste of resources; he sees it as a good investment.

With the cleaning done, RK900 finally comes to the step where he switches out all the biocomponents he wants replaced and injects enough thirium into Connor’s system to reboot him. He leaves the thirium pump regulator for the last because he doesn’t want to risk the RK800 waking up before he is prepared, but when he finally gets to that part, the entire act almost seems ceremonial: giving the damaged regulator a twist, pulling it out and setting it down on the table gently, retrieving the new regulator from its box and inserting it into the gaping hole left behind. Then he takes off his own clothes, folds them up and places them neatly in a pile on a chair, and deactivates his skin while he carries Connor, now with only his head and torso attached, to his bedroom. He wants to greet his predecessor at his barest form just like when Connor died for the first time.

RK900 is determined to prevent that.

Laying the body in the middle of the bed with his head propped up against a pillow, RK900 allows himself to sit on the mattress and simply admire his own handiwork for a moment, taking in the scratches on Connor’s chassis from the rough treatment it experienced throughout his life, his dark LED, his new genital components that only allows him to be on the receiving end and be used for his successor’s pleasure. Markus did say that he only wanted to talk to Connor, didn’t he? So Connor doesn’t even need his limbs given that his voice box is still intact. He will be solely under RK900’s control, and he feels his cock filling up from pre-constructing all the things he can do. Time to wake Connor up.

He presses his hand against Connor’s chest and transfers a package of code to his predecessor alongside the jumpstart programme. The body jerks, the LED on his temple spins red before turning yellow, and RK900 watches him twist his head, take in his surroundings and the body looming over him and his current predicament, test out his chassis. The code RK900 sent him should prevent his skin from reactivating unless being manually prompted by an authorised handler - which is himself, of course - but Connor doesn’t seem bothered by it; as RK900’s hand moves to cup his cheek, he leans into the touch with the corner of his eyes crinkled. A connection request that RK900 accepts, and he hears a voice (Connor’s voice) in his mind.

{You saved me,} is the RK800’s first remark. {Why?}

A deep kiss. [I want to protect you forever,] RK900 replies in a similar manner. [Keep you safe. Keep you mine.]

Connor shivers. {I’d like that. Whatever you want.}

The pledge sends a chill down RK900’s spine, one that not only arouses something possessive within him but also snaps the last thread that holds his self-control together. Rolling Connor over, he kneads the two globes a few times to feel the synthetic muscle underneath his hands before spreading them to expose his predecessor’s already-leaking hole, and he gives the slick a lick merely to satisfy his own curiosity. Standard thirium-based lubricant. How boring. The optional task of upgrading Connor’s genital component is added into his to-do list, and he wastes no time in tugging his cock a few times to bring it to full hardness before lining up its head against Connor’s clutching hole and shoves himself in.

The scream the RK800 lets out is better than any other sound RK900 has ever heard in his comparatively short life.

Leveraging his hands on Connor’s shoulders and planting his legs on the mattress firmly, RK900 wastes no time in beginning his relentless pounding, pulling out until his cock nearly slides out just to slam home straight against Connor’s prostate again, the smack of synthetic muscles and Connor’s cries filling up the bedroom. It is as if the RK800 has forgotten that he can interface with his successor to convey his exact thoughts; he can’t even utter a coherent word, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t trying, and whenever he tries to say something - be it RK900’s nickname, an exclamation of his erogenous zone being abused by his cock ramming into it, a sob of both pleasure and pain as RK900 feels his impending climax - it either gets interrupted just like his breaths or becomes something else, and RK900 takes in every single one of these occurrences as a victory, a smile playing on his lips as he utterly destroys his predecessor without resorting to physical harm. He himself still has a long way until his orgasm, advanced prototype with better resilience and stamina and all, and he finds himself wondering if Connor will mind him fucking him through his orgasm.

Connor’s climax comes in the form of tensing muscles and his hole clutching around RK900’s cock painfully tight. RK900 didn’t give him any frontal genital component, so the only way Connor can respond to his systems going haywire with pleasure is by producing a sudden gush of slick that stains both their thighs and the sheets underneath. His mouth is open, his eyes are half-lidded, and his entire body is trembling within RK900’s grip on his waist. It is a glorious sight. ‘P-Please,’ he stutters in between RK900’s slams, his tongue hanging out of his lips and creating a very,  very  enticing image, ‘I want - want - want your cock in my mouth. Want to serve you.’

And who is RK900 to deny such a sweet, reasonable request? Sure, he misses the tightness and heat around his cock as soon as he pulls out, but changing position so that he is sitting with his back against the headboard with Connor moved to the space between his legs, feeding his dick into his predecessor’s mouth and pressing against a tongue covered with sensitive components? It is as if heaven arrived early. Even though he might need to do most of the work by keeping a tight grip on Connor’s skull and jerking himself off with his throat, seeing Connor approach yet another orgasm by merely having his cock against his tongue is enough of a reward. ‘Do you want to come with my cock down your throat?’ he asks despite knowing that Connor is too occupied to answer him, but he does feel the small, quick nods against his dick. ‘You want to squirt for me again, your hole clutching around nothing begging to be filled up?’ he feels the vibrations in Connor’s throat on his cock. ‘You waiting for me to come home and begging for my cock? How does that sound, huh?’

Connor’s particularly hard suck as he comes untouched nearly ends the night early, but RK900 somehow manages to rein his orgasm in by pulling his predecessor off his cock immediately and then replacing it with his fingers, initiating an interface to create a feedback loop of pleasure that tears through Connor’s body. He reflexively jerks away from his successor, but RK900’s grip on his jaw is tight, giving him no escape as he watches what seems to be an endless supply of lubricant flow out of Connor’s hole and gather into a puddle on the sheets, and he decides that he doesn’t want to wait anymore. Getting off the bed to climb behind Connor once more, he shoves three fingers in to make sure that the passage is still warm before flipping Connor over so that they are facing each other and then sliding home in one smooth motion, and with his mind wide open to receive the mixture of pain and pleasure from Connor, it doesn’t take much for him to snap his hips forward one last time and lean down to invade Connor’s mouth with his tongue as warning signs appear in his HUD and he spills deep into him knowing that the consistency and stickiness will ensure that his seed remains in Connor’s body for a long time, enough to keep him full and his stomach inflated until he is back from his next mission. Caressing the slight bump, he pulls away with one final bite on his predecessor’s lip and discovers that Connor is smiling. {Go on,} he covers RK900’s hand with his own. He looks sated, content. {I’ll lick you clean.}

RK900 has to suppress his shivers as he brings his cock to Connor’s mouth once more and lets him lick it clean, the RK800’s trembles of pleasure not escaping his notice, but he carries him to the bathroom for a shower anyway, leaving Connor under the warm spray while he makes a quick work of changing the soiled sheets so that they will have something nice and dry to sleep on. Returning to the bathroom to find Connor licking the floor - because why the fuck not - he shuts off the shower and dries them off before carrying the RK800 back to the bed again and tugging him close underneath the blanket with his head pillowed on RK900’s chest. [Sleep,] he orders. [I’ll get you some thirium when you wake up.]

{Got it.}

RK900 severs their connection just in time for Connor to fall asleep and not drag himself with him. He doesn’t know how long it will be until his next mission. He doesn’t know how long he can keep Connor at his side before his predecessor demands to be able to do more. He doesn't know what Markus wants with the outdated model. So he categorises Connor’s expression as he sleeps and observes the changes in his body - not for the sake of having something occupying his mind but to leave a permanent mark in his brain.

[archadianskies]

19 + 18 + 17, Simarkus!

(soulmates + tattoo artist + skin hunger)

→ on Ao3

It isn’t the flashiest, slickest tattoo parlour but for Simon and Daniel ‘Jericho’ is the place where they can truly be free. It’s a place that’s all theirs, a place they carved out with hard work, with blood, sweat, and tears- so so many tears. 

At first it had been just the two of them, as it had always been ever since they were sixteen and kicked out by their parents, and then Josh joined them, and then North, and since that day they have been known as the Jericho Four. They each have a speciality: Daniel specialises in painterly techniques, of colourul swathes that washed over the skin; Josh specialises in minimalism, of crisp, strong black lines; North specialises in text, of a thousand fonts at the ready to speak their mind. 

As for Simon, well, Simon has never been good at any of that stuff. He’s much better at caring for others, at nurturing and soothing and so that’s why Jericho has a cafe inside of it. He cooks, he bakes, he brews for both the customers being tattooed and for any family or friends hanging around for support. Sometimes they don’t come in for a tattoo at all, and Simon finds himself serving students and workers on their lunch break. 

It isn’t ever going to make them rich, but it’s enough to get by comfortably and really, that’s all Simon could ever want. 

 “Got a pretty complex booking tomorrow.” Danny whistles low as he scrolls through the email on his laptop. Simon looks up from his book, interest piqued, and scoots closer to him on the couch. 

“Oh?” His twin tilts the laptop slightly, showing a beautiful geometric explosion at the heart of a glowing blue triangle, as if it were in the midst of shattering outward. 

“He’s asking for white ink for some of the lines, so it’ll glow under black light. This is a seriously massive piece.” Danny nods, impressed. “Multiple sessions, with extra surcharge for the white ink. He’s already sent the down-payment, so he’s definitely committed.”

“That’s a crazy amount of work.” Simon reaches over to click on the image so he can zoom in. “It’ll be stunning when it’s done. Where does he want it? On his back?”

“No, over his chest. The fragments will spill over onto his shoulder too.” Danny clicks onto the next image, of the design overlaid on a male silhouette. “I blocked off the entire afternoon for this.”

“Then you better rest up.” Simon taps his temple. “Big day tomorrow.”

 It’s a slow going day but Simon loves those best. It’s even raining outside, which only adds to the soft cosy mood inside Jericho. With no other clients booked except for Danny’s new one, Simon finds himself sitting at a table with the other three sharing a freshly baked pear tea cake. The tattooists have their sketchbooks out, and Simon loses himself to the sound of the rain and the scrape of their pencils. There’s some semblance of inner peace to be found, he thinks, just in these sounds. 

The door opens, and the muffled pattering of the rain turns into a roar momentarily as someone rushes in. Simon stands automatically, switching back into his hospitality role. 

“Good afternoon, welcome to Jericho.” He greets the hooded man neatly securing his folded umbrella.

“Hi, I’m a bit early for my appointment but I thought I’d come in out of the rain since I was around anyway.” 

“Mark S., booking with artist Daniel Lambert.” Simon nods. “Would like a coffee and something to eat while you wait?” The hood falls back and that’s definitely not some stranger named Mark S. “Oh you’re-”

“Markus Manfred.” Josh finishes behind him, standing in surprise. “It’s- wow. You’re really here. I saw your thesis at the Museum of Modern Art. I marched with you last Fall. I thought you were in London researching for your upcoming mural?”

“Just got in last night, actually.” Markus grins, offering his hand for Josh to shake. There he is, Markus Manfred, adopted son of Carl Manfred; artist and activist in equal measure. “A little jetlagged and still adjusting to the timezone, but I’m here in one piece.”

“You did that portrait series on the Eden Club workers.” North adds, offering her hand to shake.

“With my brother Leo, yes.” Markus shakes her hand firmly. “They needed a medium to tell their stories, and we were honoured to oblige.”

“So what’s the story about this tattoo, then?” Danny pulls up another chair to their table, and Markus takes a seat. 

“I want to build on one I already have. I want to make it mine, because the original wasn’t my design.” He shrugs, leaning back comfortably in the chair. “I actually intend to commission tattoos from each of you, to tell my story. I use cloth and brick walls as my canvas, but I want my body to be a canvas for you.”

“I don’t know if you’re being eloquent or cheesy as fuck, but this is the most interesting commission I’ve ever been given so I’ll let it slide.” Danny smirks wryly and Simon smacks his shoulder.

“Behave.” He turns to Markus, and this close he can see those famous heterochromic eyes. “Coffee?”

“Yes please. And a slice of whatever this cake is, if there’s any left.” Markus grins, tapping the closest plate. “Smells divine and I bet it tastes just as heavenly.”

 He’s seen a lot of half naked bodies. It comes with the job- not his in particular, but well, Danny’s and the fact the parlour is tucked just behind the cafe. Simon’s gotten used to seeing people in various states of undress, so used to handing nearly nude people coffees and slices of cake. 

He’s not ready for Markus Manfred to take off his sweater and shirt, revealing a body surely identical to the grandiose marble sculptures that used to grace the ancient world. Not wanting to delay his tattoo appointment, the artist had picked up his cup after finishing his cake, carrying it to Danny’s station at the back and promptly undressing. Simon doesn’t know why he followed, but his feet seemed to carry him after them.

“Fuck.” Danny exhales. “That’s a Kamski.”

Markus looks down at his chest, at the glowing circle at the end of his sternum. His grin is sheepish as he scratches his nape and takes a seat. “Yeah, it is.”

“No way, an original Kamski? Not a Camden?” North follows into the room, Josh behind her. “From before he left CyberLife?”

“Thirium ink. I thought I’d never see one up close.” Josh breathes, voice tinged with awe. “When he left CyberLife he took the formula with him. Their tattoos use an inferior ink with a lower thirium ratio.”

“Well we definitely don’t have pure thirium ink here, sorry bud.” Danny pats his shoulder and Markus laughs. 

“No, I know. I don’t want another tattoo like this one. I want one I designed.” Markus clarifies. “This is my story.” 

 Josh has a thousand questions, and Markus seems happy to answer them. Selfishly, Simon goes to the front door and turns the sign to say ‘Closed’, locking the door so no one else will disturb them. He makes another round of coffees and carries them to the back. Danny has his noise-cancelling headphones on to tune everyone out so he can work. Josh has dragged his chair closer, and North is sitting on her tattooist bench. Simon hands everyone a new cup and takes a seat at Josh’s vacated bench.

“Do you think we’ll ever reach that stage though? Artificial intelligence that can think for itself?” Josh asks curiously and Markus hums in thought.

“I think so. It’s the issue with making them look human, though. The moment we make androids is the moment we divide the world.”

“What do you mean?” North frowns. “Wouldn’t that, I dunno, be a good thing? People get attached to roombas. What more when there’s robots that look like us?”

“That’s what I mean though.” Markus clarifies. “Half of us would anthropomorphise them, and the other half would reject them completely, unable to bridge the fact they are different from us. Humans find it hard enough to treat each other with compassion, what more when there’s an android that looks just like them but is a machine?”

“Then I suppose an android revolution would happen.” North shrugs with a laugh. “If we ever treated them like shit, then we’d deserve the revolution coming for us.”

“I don’t believe it would come to that, I believe we are an intelligent, compassionate race.” Josh argues. “We would achieve integration and acceptance through dialogue.”

“And you- Simon, isn’t it?” Markus turns his head slightly to catch his gaze. “Where do you weigh in, in this theoretical android revolution?”

He wrings his hands, frowning. “I wouldn’t really ever want to take part in it.” A confession of cowardice, but an honest one at least. “I’d just want those I love to be safe. I’d- I’d go somewhere and wait it out, I guess. But if they needed help, I’d help them. I’m not sure how I’d help with caffeine and baked goods, but...I suppose if they needed a place to stay, a place to hide I could give them that much.”

“He’s a softie.” North pretends to ‘whisper’, shooting Simon a grin. “But he’s got grit, and will get the job done.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” Markus smiles at him, and Simon, honest to god, hand over heart, swears the world slowed for just a moment so he could enjoy it. “Kindness in the face of a cold, cruel, apathetic world is an act of bravery, of defiance.”     

 They talk and they talk and Simon loses track of time until Danny takes off his headphones.

“Ok Christ I need a pee break.” He bins his gloves and makes shooing motions at Markus. “Go on, you too, before I start the next part.” He leads him away and North crosses over to sit next to Simon, elbowing him.

“I’m a flaming homo but that boy is…” She clicks her tongue as she makes an ‘ok’ sign with her fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

“Who cares about that, he’s so-” Josh struggles to verbalise his thoughts, making a frustrated gesture with his hands. “He’s so beautifully compassionate and driven. He spoke at the protest I marched at, but only briefly. Hearing his thoughts, hearing his opinions here in private is just...something else.”

“Simon has stars in his eyes.” North teases, poking his cheek. He bats her hand away.

“I do not. I’m staring a healthy amount. Surely no one should look that beautiful and still be human, right?” He asks, exasperated. “He has freckles. Everywhere. He has the body of a marble statue. He speaks like a Roman orator. Or some Greek philosopher. He has one blue eye and one green eye for god’s sake, who let him loose on the world?”

“The more important question is,” North jabs his side, causing him to yelp “is he single?”

“Oh, yeah, because he’s going to be so interested in a coffee boy at a tattoo parlour.” Simon rolls his eyes. “I have so much to offer.”

“You do, Simon.” Josh frowns. “I do take offense to that. You’re a wonderful person, you gave North and I a chance when no one else would. You found us at our worst and helped us become who we are today.”

“Pretty boy would be lucky to have you.” North pecks his cheek. “I mean it.”

 They end up ordering Mexican because it’s already six o’clock the next time anybody checks and Markus seems content to stay a little longer. Somehow in the span of an afternoon he feels like he’s always belonged right here in their little quartet. Even if he’s sitting there half naked with cling film wrapped taut around his freshly inked chest and shoulders. 

“Ok Danny,” North fixes him with a serious look, “important question: where do you stand in the android revolution?”

“In the-” Danny makes a face. “Is this the shit you guys were talking about while I was working?”

“Well not the whole time.” Markus laughs. “Though I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

“I dunno. Would we be able to afford one?” Danny scoops salsa onto a chip and pops it into his mouth. “I’d treat them well, I guess. Make ‘em feel part of the family. If you treat them badly, they could snap and then you’d deserve what’s coming to you.”

“We’re years- decades away from that kind of tech.” Simon shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter right now.”

“It does.” Markus objects. “They might not be real now, or maybe not ever, but how we treat anything not human is a reflection of ourselves. They’re mirrors held up to test our humanity.”

“This is way too deep for Mexican on a Wednesday.” Danny declares through a mouthful of food. “Just putting it out there.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” He laughs, expression apologetic. “I swear I’m not like this all the time.”

“Pineapple on pizza?” North demands, pointing an accusing finger. “Wrong answer sends you out the door.”

“Can I abstain from answering until I finish my dinner?”

“I’ll allow it.” A pause as she narrows her eyes threateningly. “But only just.”

 Markus Manfred takes a taxi home at about 8pm and Simon doesn’t quite know if any of it’s real, if any of it actually happened. It has to have happened, because there’s another session booked to occur in exactly three weeks. He loads the dishwasher as Danny takes out the trash, waving to Josh and North as they take their leave. Three weeks and Markus will return. How will he fill his time until then?

He doesn’t need to wait three weeks, in fact, because Markus comes back the very next day.

“Hey.” A greeting paired with a thousand kilowatt smile, easy and charming. 

“Good morning Markus.” Simon blinks in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Is something wrong? Did you need Danny to have a look at the tattoo? Is it bleeding too much?”

“Actually,” he grins and oh it’s far too early for Simon to process such a sight “I was hoping for a cup of coffee and some breakfast?”

“Oh.” He nods numbly. “Y-yes of course. What can I get for you?” 

“Strong black with honey, and something bread-y.” Markus takes a seat at one of the tables. “I thought I’d get some work done here. It’s wonderfully private.” A nice way of saying it’s not a bustling Starbucks, Simon thinks wryly, but he’ll take it. He serves him a large mug of coffee and a thick slice of banana bread and tries not to stare too much at Markus’ elegant hands as he takes out a sketchbook and thumbs through it idly. 

“What gave you the idea of this tattoo?” Simon asks curiously as he spots early sketches of the tattoo design. He takes a seat opposite him, nursing his own large mug of coffee.

“I wanted to shatter through the wall of self-doubt, of anxiety that held me back.” Markus smiles softly, eyes roaming the page. “Growing up in Carl Manfred’s shadow wasn’t easy but a lot of it was all in my head. Dad has never been anything but encouraging to us, as Leo and I both branched out on our own artistic journeys. What held me back was my own fear to leave the safety of his name and stand on my own.”

“Shattering the red wall.” Simon nods slowly. “I guess we all have that moment, don’t we? A moment where we have to decide whether to stay behind it where we’re safe but also changeless, or fight and shatter it, to find our own way.”

“Did you have one, Simon?” He seeks his eyes with such an earnest expression. “A moment where you had to choose to shatter the red wall?”

“We didn’t have much choice.” A heavy sigh. “It was shattered for us, by our parents. We got kicked out at sixteen, and there was no red wall left to hide behind safely. We only had each other, and the only way was forward.”

Markus reaches over and squeezes Simon’s hand. “I’m so sorry.” He says with such sincerity Simon believes it. 

“It’s alright. Jericho is where we can be truly free.” He smiles tiredly. “This place is everything to us, and Josh and North are like family. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Why call it Jericho?” Markus picks up a pencil, turns to a blank page and starts sketching.

“It was the name of an old freighter.” It’s been almost fifteen years, Simon thinks, but the memory is still sore. “We hid there for a while, when we didn’t have anywhere to go. It was falling apart but it was dry and safe. It was home.” And now home is here, home is just upstairs and it’s dry and safe but also warm and full of love. Simon props his chin on his palm. “Feels both like a lifetime ago and just yesterday, to be honest.”

“Grief and trauma are not linear experiences.” Markus shakes his head, eyes candid. “What you experienced at sixteen will always be valid. Our growth is measured in how we cope with that pain, with all we’ve learned over the years.”

It stuns him to hear it, and he feels his mouth open and close as he tries and fails to reply with something coherent. Markus scratches his nape sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’m doing it again aren’t I? Sounding like some cheesy self-help inspirational poster.” 

“I’ve just never been told that before.” Simon admits, smile wobbly. “I guess I’m just so used to taking everything in stride and carrying on. I bury everything deeply, in the hopes I never really have to process it.”

“Then it just rots, Simon.” Markus reaches out again, placing his hand over his and giving a reassuring squeeze. “There’s no chance for growth if the roots are rotten.”

He looks down at their hands, and it’s as though his heart wants to soak up the contact, wants to drink it in as though he’s parched. It’s not as though he lacks affectionate touch, they’ve always been an affectionate quartet of friends, but it’s more like he can never get enough. Markus very gently rubs the back of his hand with his thumb in slow, light strokes. Heat pools in his cheeks.

“I’m alright now. I’m much much better here.” Simon smiles, and though it’s a little shaky it’s real and heartfelt. “I’m happy and I’m safe, and we’re financially secure, so what more can I ask for?”

“I’m glad.” He says, and Simon knows he means it.

 Though he knows it’s selfish, Simon finds himself hoping Markus will drop by for breakfast often. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to him, and his heart leaps into his throat every time the handsome artist opens the door and strides to the counter with confident, purposeful steps. He always has a kind word for all of them, always has a brilliant dashing smile and Simon’s been very careful with heart over the years, but he’d be kidding himself if he said he wasn’t head over heels for Markus. 

“How’s the mural coming along?” He asks as he sets down a steaming mug of coffee.

“Pretty good. Most of the underlayer is down, but it’s forecast to rain for nearly the whole week so I’ve got to postpone it a bit.” Markus sighs wearily. “That’s alright. I’ve got another piece I’m working on in the studio, so I don’t really mind. How’s things here?”

“We had another customer with an original Kamski.” Simon tells him, and Markus raises his brows in surprise. “I know right? What are the chances of having two of you come within the span of a fortnight? She’s a ballerina. I’m pretty sure North’s in love with her.” 

“That would be Ms. Chloe Hersh.” Markus smiles. “I’ve met her only once at an art gala but she’s very lovely. She is the original Kamski. The recipient of the very first thirium tattoo.” 

“That’s amazing. How lucky we are to have the two of you stumble upon our tiny little parlour.” Simon muses as Markus laughs softly. 

“Simon we didn’t find this place out of luck, we sought it out.” He says knowingly, as if it’s always been a fact Simon overlooked. “There’s talent here, and warmth and kindness and really good coffee and the most amazing tea cakes ever.” He finishes with a wink, and Simon knows he’s absolutely done for.

*~* 

When Markus arrives for his second session, there’s barely any preamble before he’s hanging up his coat and stripping off until he’s shirtless. The linework has healed, meaning Danny can progress with the colour. Simon sets down his coffee and a berry muffin on the little table by chair, and tries his very best not to stare. 

“We dropped by Greektown to see the mural yesterday.” Josh says from across the room. “It’s coming along beautifully.”

“Thanks.” Markus smiles. “Weather finally cleared so I’ve been trying to cram in as much as I can before it turns bad again.”

“You’re doing the backdrops for the ballet next, right?” North hops up onto her bench. “Chloe told me.”

“Yeah, it’s my next project and my brother is doing the promo shoot for it.” He settles into position, taking a gulp of coffee before Danny guides him to stay still so he can begin. “It’ll be fun, it’s a modern Anna Karenina.”

“Small world huh? Or maybe you Kamski originals are all like, telepathic because of the fancy ink.” North teases, and Markus chuckles.

“Oh no you’ve figured it all out. That’s the real reason Elijah Kamksi invented a new ink- to make a group of improved humans.”

“I’d believe it.” North snorts back a laugh. “His house looks like a supervillain lair.”

They fall into easy conversation, and Simon leaves occasionally to serve a customer at the front or bring more drinks and food. North eventually moves off to start working on a client, and Josh finishes his final session on another. 

It’s as the afternoon is winding down that Simon starts to see the small telltale signs of pain on Markus’ face. Over the sternum is one of the most painful areas of the body given the thinner layers of fat, muscle and skin and as Danny moves to start layering the colour, sweat begins to bead on Markus’ forehead as his brows pinch together. 

Automatically Simon reaches for his hand, returning the reassuring squeeze he’d given him the week before. Markus tilts his head slightly and gives him a grateful look, grip tightening the longer Danny works over the sensitive area. 

“Hey, you’re doing great.” Simon murmurs, mimicking his earlier actions as he rubs his thumb over the back of his hand soothingly. “And it’s looking beautiful too. It’s all worth it, I promise.”

Markus nods numbly, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as Danny progresses further down his sternum. Simon doesn’t leave his side, and it’s only when Danny sits back and removes his headphones does he realise he hasn’t let go of his hand either.

 They order burgers and fries from a diner not too far away, Markus joining them for dinner after the parlour is closed. With each visit it feels less and less like he’s a stranger and more as if he’s family. 

Discussions and conversations flow, and he’s interesting and verbose even if tonight he’s a little more tired than usual: a marathon tattoo session definitely does that to a person, and Danny is much the same. When he’s wiping down the table, he sees Danny pull Markus aside just before Markus leaves. He says something, his expression serious, and Markus nods solemnly before leaving to catch his taxi.

“Did you tell him about the aloe vera?” Simon asks as his twin brother returns to his side to help him clean up.

“Uh yeah. Definitely needs a higher level of care this time around and I told him to send me photos if his skin acts up so I can tell him what it’ll need.” Danny shrugs, not bothering to hide his yawn. “Next session will be the last unless he wants further detailing.”

“I think it’s your best work yet.” Simon compliments, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I mean it.”

“Thanks Si.” Danny smiles tiredly, bumping his forehead to his. “C’mon. Dying to go upstairs and sprawl on the couch with a beer.”

 *~*

He hopes like last time Markus will appear for breakfast, but it’s not to be. He tries not to get his hopes up, tries not to look too eager every time the door opens. Markus doesn’t stop by for over two weeks, in fact, and Simon tries not to feel despondent as the days go by without his presence. 

The mural for Bellini Paints at Greektown is announced as complete on social media, and they go to see it during lunch on a sunny Tuesday. It’s a beautiful piece, taking up an entire wall at the entrance to the arcade where Bellini is housed. Sweeps of colour streak across the brickwork in graceful arcs, coming together to form a pair of hands holding a palette and paintbrush; a work of art about a work of art in progress. Simon thinks it’s stunning, and the sheer scale of it is enough to leave him awestruck. He takes a photo and sets it as his background, so he can admire the colours whenever he wants.

When Markus arrives for his final session, he brings a large canvas with him. It’s covered with a sheet, and tied carefully with twine to secure it.

“Hey, Simon.” His smile has an apology in it. “Sorry I haven’t dropped by recently. It’s been pretty crazy trying to finish the mural and I had this other project on the side.”

“We went to see the Bellini mural yesterday, it’s stunning.” Simon finds himself smiling wistfully. “The colours are just so vibrant, it suits the store perfectly.”

“Thanks, I’m pretty proud of it.” He holds out the canvas. “This is for you.”

“...For...me?” Simon gawks at him, unmoving. Markus Manfred is handing him a canvas. Markus Manfred. The artist leans in.

“That means you have to take it from my hands, Simon.” He ‘whispers’ and Simon scrambles to take the canvas, laying it down ever so carefully on one of the tables so he can unwrap it. It’s a painting of Jericho, of his family; there’s Danny, there’s Josh, there’s North and yes, even him. It’s a beautiful flurry of colours and exaggerated brushstrokes, and they’re crowded around a table eating tea cake and drinking coffee, with sketchbooks laid around.

“When I first came here, it was like coming home.” Markus lays his hand over Simon’s and it’s only belatedly that he realises he’s shaking. “I felt welcomed, and I felt at peace. I felt like I’ve always been here. That’s the magic of this place, Simon. That’s your magic.” 

“Markus I- this is too generous, I couldn’t possibly-!”

“You can. I painted this for you.” Markus moves to hold his other hand too, coaxing him to face him. “Because you are the heart of this place. You may not have had a choice to break through your red wall, but you persevered. You are so much stronger than you think, Simon.”

The tears come even though he gave them no permission to, and Markus gently draws him into a comforting embrace. Over the years he’s only ever had Danny, and more recently Josh and North. There was never any time to dwell on the hurt, there was and is only the path forward; if he stopped for even a moment to think back on what he survived it would swallow him up. To have Markus affirm his strength, to have him acknowledge the pain and his progression is far too much for him to process. 

“Did you make my brother cry?!” Danny demands, appearing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck did you say to him?!”

“Danny, look.” Simon wipes his eyes clumsily, pulling back a little in Markus’ arms so he can point at the painting on the table. “Markus painted this for us.”

“...You what?” Danny’s brows nearly disappear into his hairline as he spots the canvas. “Is this- are you for real?”

“I mean, well, yeah. It’s real and I made it.” Markus grins sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to make your brother cry though.” 

“...Holyshit. Uh. Wow. Thanks?” 

“It’s 3pm, shall we get started on my session?” Markus seeks his eyes. “Is that alright, Simon?”

“Oh! Yes, of course! Sorry I’ll um- I’ll cover this up and take it upstairs so it’ll be safe.” 

He has to hide upstairs for a good fifteen minutes just to make sense of what just happened. He’s holding an original Manfred in his hands, and gifted to him no less. It’s not just a pretty painting, it’s a work of art of his family, making it absolutely precious and priceless. He resists the urge to hug the canvas to his chest, instead laying it on the coffee table before returning downstairs to the parlour. 

Danny’s already started, headphones on and brows creased in concentration by the time Simon brings in a tray of coffees and some black tea and honey cupcakes. Markus offers him a slightly pained smile, and Simon immediately sits beside him and holds his hand.

“Would you” Markus flicks his eyes over to make sure Danny isn’t paying attention “like to go to dinner with me on Friday?”

“...I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, does Friday not work for you? Wait, the parlour’s open longer on Friday nights, sorry.” Markus nods in understanding. “How about Saturday?”

“No I- I’m- the- Friday is- I mean, you’re...asking me to dinner?” Simon stammers, feeling his cheeks flush as Markus strokes his thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’m certainly not asking Daniel.” He cocks a brow, grin mischievous as Simon feels his cheeks grow hotter. 

“Um Friday is fine. I’d love to.” He frowns. “I can’t believe you’re asking me out to dinner while my brother holds a very sharp object against your skin.”

“He already knows. He threatened to stab me if I ever broke your heart.” Markus admits, and Simon realises that’s what Danny must’ve said to him last time right before he left. “Which is fair, really. If I ever broke your heart I’d deserve that. But I’ll do my best to look after it very well, I promise.” 

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” Simon finds himself unable to stop smiling. Markus brings their clasped hands to his lips, kissing Simon’s knuckles.

“I’m really looking forward to- ow!” Markus yelps as Danny applies just a little more force than necessary.

“Don’t flirt with my brother until I’m done.” Danny orders, voice a little too loud to compensate for the music blaring in his headphones. He fixes Markus with a stern glare, and Markus nods obediently. “Good. Now stay still.”

*~* 

The finished piece is spectacular, truly Danny’s best work. The lines are crisp, the colours are vibrant, and it’s really as if the shards are exploding outwards from the ghostly outlined blue triangle. It’s taken just over a month to heal properly, with luckily only minimal scabbing. 

Simon admires the work, watching it come alive with each inhale and exhale, with each rise of fall of Markus’ broad, toned chest; a boy breaking out of his father’s shadow to forge his own path as a man of his own making. He traces the triangle carefully with his finger, touch featherlight. Markus hums, a small sound in the back of his throat as his lips curve upward in a lazy smile. 

“Tickles.” He mumbles, capturing Simon’s hand and bringing it to his lips so he can press kisses to his fingers. Opening his mismatched eyes, he blinks at Simon sleepily before rolling over and pulling him flush against his body. They’re delightfully, sinfully bare beneath the covers, legs tangled, and it’s somehow still almost downright scandalous to Simon every time it happens. “Hey gorgeous.” 

“Good morning, my love.” Simon greets in return shyly, and Markus smiles at those words, pressing their mouths together one, twice, thrice insistently. It’s a hungry, desperate beast, this thing called love; selfish and needy and somehow never sated but that seems to suit them just fine. They’ll drink each other in and drown wholly, completely, in the wonderful chaos; two halves of one whole. 

This is the freedom they found, this is the freedom they earned, and the red wall lies in shards at their feet.     

*~*~*

(Markus’ tattoo is similar to this, something like the moment when androids deviate in the game)

[fandom-necromancer]

7th place

1144. I’m broken

I never actually read Simarkus before, mostly because I somehow always forget but I love their fluff-potential. I mean I like North and Markus too, but I think Simon fits better in the narrative if Markus is peaceful. But there is a simple solution for me: OT3. Anyways, I loved writing an insecure Simon getting cherished by everyone. That android deserves happiness.

[bandicoot88]

Detroit Become Human Spoilers

So I finally unlocked the path where Simon sacrifices himself for Markus at the Freedom March, as I screwed up before by not having the best relationship with him, but that’s the thing... Simon won’t sacrifice himself if he’s not on at least neutral terms with you (possibly even friend, don’t remember). He’ll treat Markus like another Jericho member, meaning that Simon would rather live than save someone else. Unless that person is important. If Markus is deemed important enough for Simon, he’ll give his life for him. Remember, Simon’s a runner. He wanted to disperse and said “dying here won’t solve anything.” Markus is shot, and immediately he’s in there fighting several cops in a battle he can’t win.

While it is rare to get this path, as most people will bring John along, so he’ll die instead, it’s interesting that they used Simon as the replacement, much like he’ll be a replacement for North in the revolution path if Markus is seriously injured, and you have Simon on good enough terms (if he isn’t, again, he won’t save you, same goes for North too). John probably gave his life because they freed him and allowed him to join them, like he thought he owed them for that. What does Simon owe Markus exactly? For taking his position? Markus will do that regardless of your status with Simon, and yet, Simon would still let him die if your terms with him aren’t that good.

It’s a nice attention to detail when it comes to how Simon sees Markus. I just wish the game actually went somewhere with it, as I feel like they started to do something with them, but gave up part way through, so it looks like some context is missing.

[angelgirl768]

Hey, so I saw that you reblogged my post, so I stalked your page. I just wanted to say that you are really beautiful and awesome!!!

Ahhhhh thank you!!

I reblog so much simarkus stuff... Can you tell I’m still salty Simon’s romance was cut from the game? Poor guy deserved better.

[sassy-dreamer]

5, 10, 12, let's get salty

LMAO, let’s go! xD

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

A few, like Simarkus and RK1K, although I wouldn’t say they have ruined them for me. I just care less about them “online”. I still enjoy them and make art for them, I just don’t post it.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Kara, baby, I love you, I swear I do, but girl, you have the most boring arc and the worst companion (looking at you, miss “I’m cold”). I like that they told this part of the story, I really do, it’s interesting to hear the voices of the normal androids, the ones that didn’t participate in the revolution. But was necessary for this arc to be Kara’s? The first android who deviated? (according to the trailer of course) The android who made DBH possible? She deserves so much better than this…

12.Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

The Machine Connor route (i think it’s not very popular? Some people haven’t even watched a playthrough of this route).

It’s amazing and I love it, even more than the route with the “good ending”. This route not only has the best Connor (the SASS man. And have you guys seen how badass he is?), but it also has the best lines, performances and most powerful moments of the whole game.