just inching along until I solidify the plot oh god... also HERE: porrimistheclassiestlesbian. tumblr post/59611662441/vantasticmess-porrimistheclassiestlesbian is where the inspiration for this came from. just get rid of all the spaces. check it out! contact me via pm or on tumblr (my url is porrimistheclassiestlesbian) if you have any questions! uvu

**8**

"Oh my fucking god," Dave said blankly. The Knight jerked in a full-body flinch, looking for all the world like he'd been slapped hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps. His look of momentary shock morphed into a furious snarl and Dave decided he'd said the wrong thing.

You watch your fucking mouth, shitwad," the Knight hissed into Dave's face. "Didn't your elders ever tell you to never say your god's name in vain?" He scoffed, looking away angrily. "It's like you assholes do it on purpose or something."

"Um," Dave said awkwardly, "sorry?" Then, "you're not the only god." Because he was processing very little very slowly and all he could think of was how that would go against everything everyone had been taught.

"No," the Knight grunted, "but I'm the one whose help you asked for." He still refused to look up at Dave, and maybe it was because of the height difference, or maybe because the scratched up wood floor was more interesting than his face (a thought he immediately pushed away) and Dave didn't call him on it. He did try to speak, though.

"Sssssso I offended you how?"

Now the Knight looked up, if only to make sure he could see the god's dramatic eyeroll. "In the house, Strider."

Dave allowed himself to be shoved back into his own home with only mild irritation, watching (his?) the deity close and lock the door behind them.

It hit him how he automatically assumed this guy was the actual Knight of Protection. For all he knew, he could have been some nutjob neighbor he'd never met or something. He realized a moment too late that this stranger knew his name — his surname, anyways, and that made sense because practically no one in the building knew him personally. It didn't explain away the grey skin and yellow eyes, but people dressed up as the gods on occasion. He watched the supposed Knight settle on his conveniently bare couch, readjusting his scarlet robes as he moved like some sort of princess.

At this point, Dave would usually go on some rant that danced around the subject of fake identities and cosplay, but it was three in the morning and he was tired of this shit before it could get started. "Who are you," he said bluntly.

The stranger bared his (sharp) teeth in a grimace. "Who do I look like?" he demanded. "The fucking Knight of Protection, you idiot, don't you look at all the altars and shit?"

"Well yeah, but how do I know you are who you say you are?" Dave insisted. The Knight scowled.

"Do I need to outline your prayer to you?" he asked. "I can do that, you know, even if it's a shitty waste of time, if it'll make you feel better. No, shut up," he added when Dave opened his mouth to argue, "and listen to me. We don't hear everyone's prayers, okay? Only special ones, like a child's first prayer to their favourite deity or someone with a real, desperate need for help. All the ones in between are cute, or sad or what the fuck ever but there's so many they're just white noise. The big ones are like someone yelling our ears. Yours," he jabbed a finger at Dave, "nearly deafened me. That tells me you don't do prayers much, and I was probably the deity you chose to be your patron in your first prayer."

There was a short, vaguely guilty silence, in which Dave deliberately didn't fidget or look anywhere but at the Knight's left ear.

"That was your first prayer, wasn't it?"

"Hey," Dave said, the helpless note clear in his voice as he put his hands up defensively, "I'm a busy guy."

If looks could kill, Dave would have been burnt to ash right then and there.

**8** Pretty please, leave a review? I love them so much and they're a big source of inspiration for me! I would seriously appreciate it!