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thegeneralguy · 3 years

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The Champion of Olympus - Ares’s Arrogance

By thegeneralguy

Revised by @amalianetwork

The chariot of the sun was finishing its daily round over Mount Olympus, leaving a crimson trail in its path. The beautiful sky was painted red, the golden rooftops of the monumental temples and lavish palaces reflecting the majestic sunset´s light. In the inner circle of heaven, the faint sound of metal clashes resonated through the cloudy hills, where all the Olympian´s residences stood proudly watching over the vast extent of the celestial realm. The furious battle cries were coming from the dominion of the god of war. The magnificent mansion stood out of the rest of the buildings due to the dark marble composing its solemn columns, along with a vibrant bronze rooftop that illuminated the surroundings in a permanent hue of carmine.

The aggressive cacophony was coming from the inner courtyard, which occupied the biggest part of the palace. Ares was in the middle of a fierce battle against two other gods, wielding his giant golden spear to strike them with fury over and over again. His extremely muscular body did not impede his battle prowess, as he gracefully danced with the spear as an extension of his limbs. Both lesser gods brandished two identical golden swords, masterfully avoiding and countering the bigger deity's attacks. With the might of his enormous arm, the god of war planted his weapon on the ground propelling himself into a somersault and successfully jumping over the two surprised beings. Suspended on the air he then knocked down both his foes with a fast sweep of his powerful leg, landing gracefully on top of them.

"Again."

He said in a gruff bass voice, his fiery crimson eyes glaring down at the two defeated gods struggling to get back on their feet. Just as they were getting ready to clash weapons again, a bright pink flash replaced the bloody red atmosphere for an instant, leaving behind the most beautiful woman in existence. Ares put down his spear and walked towards his past lover, Aphrodite. She stared seductively at her forbidden object for desire. After all the eons resisting the urge to touch again, the mighty god of war still looked as imposing as the first time they fell for each other. His white robe was perched over one shoulder, exposing one half of his titanic chest. The enormous arms he once used to crack the skulls of his enemies rippled with power, thick veins pumping the holy ichor inside of them. His legs looked stronger than the dark marble columns supporting the palace. Many mementos from his previous battles decorated his bronze skin in the form of many little marks left by the few weapons that were able to harm him.

His brutish face was half concealed by a dense black beard and had a big scar that ran across from his hanging brow, through his eye, and got lost in the hair on his square chin. His intimidating appearance was only accentuated by his bald head, along with the piercing red eyes that flared with the rage of a thousand wars underneath. He approached the goddess, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close, only to be pushed back by her slender arm.

"You know how he gets when he knows we're together, Ares."

The beautiful deity could barely hold her urge to make love with the masculine god in front of her, but the fear was greater than any other primal instinct she could feel. Ares grunted annoyed, and let the woman out of his embrace.

"I could take on him you know, and you would be finally free. Free to be with me for the rest of eternity."

Aphrodite looked at her former lover with a deep-rooted sadness behind her dark pink eyes and raised her elegant hand to caress the god's rough cheek. Ares took her hand delicately, like a gorilla grabbing the most delicate of a rose's petals, and planted a kiss full of passion and nostalgia of an immemorial time, when they were together, on her palm. They both stood still for a moment, and then Aphrodite removed her hand from his grip and took a step back.

"You know that can't be. Even though you're the god of war and combat, you're still no match for Hephaestus's might. Remember what happened last time."

Ares's winced for a moment, his melancholic visage quickly returning to its natural angry sneer. Of course, he remembered the humiliation his brother put his own wife and him through, exposing their affair to the rest of the gods. The animosity both of his parents felt for him only increased, making the god even more of an outcast than he already was. Only his desire for the goddess of beauty was stronger than his undying loyalty for his father, trying desperately to gain his favor in every conflict. But all his attempts failed miserably, especially when his sister Athena was involved. Zeus, although prideful and violent, was a brilliant strategist and he always sided with his wiser and more intelligent daughter, often leaving the god of war hurt in his pride. He looked back at Aphrodite reproachingly, wondering what the goddess's visit truly meant.

"What are you looking for Aphrodite? If you know Hephaestus doesn't like to see you with me, what is it that brings you to interrupt my training?"

"I know how these situations tend to put you under too much pressure. I just wanted to ask what you were planning to do concerning the trial of the Champion."

"It's been a long time since father has put a challenge on all of us. This might be my opportunity to prove once and for all that I'm the one he should be turning to in troubling times, not Athena."

The god of war was a force to be reckoned with. His prowess in battle was matched by no one in Mount Olympus, and his sheer force was only rivaled by few other deities. But although he was a fearsome opponent for whoever dared in challenging him, he had one fatal flaw: his arrogance. His thirst for blood and violence, when combined with his superiority complex, bred poor choices in and out of battle, often resulting in the mighty god being ridiculed. All the emotions from defeat were only magnified by his enormous ego, creating a bitter outcast who was often ignored by the rest of his fellow deities. Aphrodite knew that deep inside that glorious body and arrogant demeanor was a deep sadness product of rejection from his own family.

"I know how you feel Ares, but I would advise you not to waste too much energy in this affair. You know how Zeus can be when it comes to a world-ending crisis. I don't want you to get more hurt…"

She then took a step forward to put her hand on his gargantuan chest. Ares quickly turned his back towards Aphrodite, unable to keep the emotions from projecting on his face.

"What do you, the goddess of beauty, know about rejection? Father is completely blind to my superior power, and it's my duty to show him he has the most mighty ally for whatever challenge he might face. I have to eclipse the other competitors to take my rightful place on his side. Especially Athena."

The rivalry between the god of war and the goddess of wisdom was not unheard of in Mount Olympus. Even the epic tales from the terrestrial plane depicted the many victories Athena had against Ares. The big scar on the god's face was an eternal reminder of the goddess's superior abilities, often fueling the god's rage in battle every time he caught a glimpse of it in the reflection of a shield. Aphrodite wasn't very keen on Athena either, often clashing with her because of their separate views on vices and virtues, but it was nothing compared to the strong hatred Ares felt for her. The goddess of beauty then took a few steps forward to stand next to the strong deity.

"I guess there is no point in trying to stop you. I would advise you to be careful though. I don't know if you noticed, but Zeus's demeanor seemed very strange during the reunion. You'd be deceiving yourself if you didn't think the ascension of a new champion is not something out of the ordinary."

The god of war stood quiet for some time, reflecting on Aphrodite's words. It was true that the ritual of ascension was a holy ceremony, reserved for heroic acts of celebration instead of an emergency of this type. The last time he tried to gift a mortal with the divine essence, he watched helplessly as his devotee was consumed by its power, obliterating him. He couldn't even remember when was the last time the ritual was successful. But all these concerns were of little meaning for Ares. Before he stood a perfect opportunity to demonstrate his power and to show his abnegation for his father.

"I already made up my mind, Aphrodite. I will personally descend to the Earth and create the best Champion there is. No one will be able to stand against him, for he will be forged by my superior power."

Aphrodite let out a frustrated sigh, knowing her attempts of dissuading the god from taking part in this ridiculous plan were pointless. This whole plot seemed very suspicious for her, but she couldn't exactly point out what was going on. If Ares wasn't going to help her find out, she'll have to resort to other more extreme means. She then looked at the two godlings standing firmly waiting for Ares's command. Both looked practically identical, standing tall and strong like their father, but their handsome faces devoid of their progenitor's magnificent beard. They also had heads full of thick dark brown curls, encasing their more youthful faces. Their muscular bodies were also covered by numerous scars, mostly done by their father's spear.

"Look at my poor children. What have you done to them, Ares?"

Phobos and Deimos were the twin children of beauty and war, born out of human's innermost primal instinct: fear. Both godlings owed an undying loyalty to their father, often accompanying him in each of his affairs. Ares walked towards them, inspecting every inch of his two soldiers, who stood there firmly in silence awaiting their father's command.

"I made them into what they're right now. Two war weapons capable of sowing despair out of mortal hearts. And it seems I'll make use of their service once again. I'm going to make use of a couple of tricks you've shown me."

"If you already made your decision, it is useless to remain here and try to convince you otherwise. Just a word of advice Ares, don't let your pride be your downfall once again."

The goddess disappeared then with a flash, leaving Ares and the two godlings alone once again. The god of war then pondered on the goddess's words, wondering if he should change his mind and challenge his father, like many members of his family were going to. He remembered an ancient saying from another mortal cult: pride goes before the fall. But he quickly dismissed any doubt circling his mind. An opportunity to gain Zeus's grace wasn't going to present itself that easily again. It was his chance to demonstrate his superior existence, and take Athena's place right next to their father. His rugged face was drawn with a sinister smile. He was going to reap a human from his sister's flock, proving once and for all who the most powerful warrior of Olympus was.

It was an unusually agitated day for Athens High. The days before summer vacation were always received with enthusiasm by the students, and relief by the faculty members. Colorful school banners announcing the graduation ceremony for the seniors decorated the hallways, proudly signifying another school year's death. Every student was filled to the brim of school spirit, enthusiastically signing yearbooks, taking pictures, and joking with their soon to be former teachers. All except one. Leon Machiavelli sat quietly at his desk, tapping his feet nervously while he waited for the ultimate call for freedom that was the ringing of the bell on the last school day.

High school could be harsh for someone like Leon. The 19-year-old always felt like a fish out of water when it came to socializing with his classmates, most of his time spent on furthering his knowledge and improving his chances of getting into an Ivy League college, finally ridding himself of the shackles that an upbringing in a small rural town in the middle of nowhere could bring. The few friendships he managed to make over the course of his years through school were few and far too insignificant to regret his choice in moving to the other side of the country and never hearing from them again. Not to mention his troubled relationship with his parents, who were concerned by their son's more hermit nature. His family had been living in that town for a few generations, owning some small businesses in the surrounding area and establishing itself as one of the most aristocratic families in the county.

The swan song of the school year chimed in the form of the bell's ring, causing excited screams and cheers from all students. Notebooks were propelled into the air, paper falling everywhere painting the floor with white. Girls exchanged teary hugs, immortalizing their last moments in the classroom with their smartphones and guys hollered and smashed against each other in fraternal hugs. Leon swiftly picked up his backpack and made a beeline towards the exit, already feeling claustrophobic in the middle of the chaos. He made his way through the sea of students, already feeling the scorching hot summer air blowing at his face. When he was just a step away from freedom, he felt a meaty hand on his shoulder pulling him back inside. He turned around with an exasperated look on his face, only to find out the hand belonged to Kevin Volker, the varsity football captain.

"Leon, bro, what's up? I haven't seen you all day."

The relationship between the hunky jock and the hermit bookworm was, to say the least, complicated. Both boys practically grew up together, their families living next to each other and going to the same school from kindergarten all through to high school. Childish wonder pushed them to form a very good friendship in their first years of development. Family barbeques, playdates, camping trips, both boys had all the necessary qualities to become the best of friends. The fact that their parents were also friends and business partners was also a good advantage for them to keep interacting almost like brothers. All their years of primary school were spent joyfully carefree, with both boys enjoying the wonder of practically living together and embarking on whichever childish adventure they wanted.

But things got different once Kevin's biological clock sent him spiraling into puberty. The gorgeous blonde boy became an athletic teenager, and his energetic nature combined with his newly acquired physical prowess turned him into a social sensation in school. The allure of the childish fantasies he used to share with his best friend was slowly replaced by the enjoyment a real-life circle of friends could bring. Kevin naturally went up the ladder of the monstrous social scale that was high school. The sports teams didn't waste any time in hunting him down, but it was the school's most prided one that caught him in the end: the football team. After just four years the cute teen had developed into a strapping young man, with an all-American jock face and a body to die for.

Watching his best friend turn into the king of school wasn't easy for Leon. The slow abandonment combined with his frustrations over his very delayed development slowly bittered him. Instead of growing up big and strong like Kevin, Leon just gained a few inches in height, but a lot of pounds in weight. He resented his friend for getting the attention of their peers and leaving him alone to fuel their fantasy world on his own. He resented his friend for gaining the grace of other students, and soon cut all ties to him. The chubby red-head grew up alone in the darkness of his bedroom, while the blonde stud dwelled in the sunlight. His natural curiosity pushed him into pursuing knowledge, far prioritizing the cultivation of the mind instead of the body. His academic achievements mixed in with his hidden frustrations bred an arrogance delusion. Leon convinced himself that he was too good for other people, shielding himself from the pain of rejection. Completely dismissing any attempt of remaining active took a toll on his body, turning the chubby teen into an overweight young man with a disheveled appearance. Every time he saw Kevin, he remembered their lost childhood and caught a glimpse of his true reality. The muscular jock served as a window of truth in Leon's arrogant delusion: his loneliness was a product of his own doing.

"I was just busy getting my things ready for tomorrow's speech. Can I help you with anything?"

He bitterly stared into the jock's blue eyes and saw exactly the look that he hated. Even though Kevin grew dismissive towards him, he never once participated in the occasional bullying red-head suffered, often offering to help out with whatever he needed. His usual cocky gaze hid a deep-set sympathy for the lonely nerd, and Leon hated that. He didn't need the sympathy of someone he considered inferior.

"No, it's all good thanks. I'm going to drive home first to pick up my gym bag, and I wanted to offer you a ride. It's too fucking hot out there, man,” said Kevin with a burst of awkward laughter. His deep voice vibrated on his chest, which twitched playfully from time to time. Leon scanned his former friend with a resentful gaze. The heavily muscled jock was encased in the trendiest designer clothes, his bulging arms threatening to rip his polo's sleeves apart, and the tree trunks he had for legs wrapped in skin-tight chinos, showcasing the deep definition within the heavy muscles. He tried his best not to stare too much into the body and kept his apathetic frown fixed on his piercing blue eyes.

"Thank you, but I'm gonna take the bus. There's some stuff in town I need to sort out first."

"That's ok, guess I'll see you tomorrow in the graduation ceremony then,” said Kevin with a subdued sigh. Leon turned around without saying anything and headed outside towards the searing sunlight. Even though he kept a straight face during the exchange with his former friend, his fists were clenched due to the anger he felt. Even after all those years, Leon's heart still skipped a beat every time the jock was nearby. No matter how much he tried to deceive himself into thinking he was the superior of the two, he couldn't get rid of the feelings he had for his former friend.

"Congratulations on the valedictorian thing by the way!"

He managed to scream before Leon was outside the door. The chubby red-head barely turned around, and with a weak thanks, he was lost in the blinding light.

The little town's main street was buzzing with activity on the hot summer afternoon. Families paraded themselves on the sidewalk, eating ice cream and letting the kids play on the numerous water fountains around the place. Little restaurants and boutiques decorated the sides of the street, offering a colorful option of both local and imported goods to the town's small population. The Machiavelli family owned many of those businesses and almost every convenience store in town. Leon was heading to the family's favored tailor to meet his mother to get his outfit for the graduation ready. After all, the son of one of the town's most important families couldn't show up in his usual disheveled state to his high school graduation. Leon always thought things like fashion and social status were frivolities, intellectually inferior people used to feel better about themselves, so he gave little importance to them. Even now on the threshold of the rest of his life, he could care less about how he looked, but his mother insisted so much that he gave in to her requests to keep her from nagging him any longer.

The little bell on top of the door chimed in when he entered the door, attracting the attention of his mother, who was enthusiastically discussing ties and bows with the tailor.

"Honey, you made it! Step in front of the mirror please, Mr. Schneider will take your final measurements."

No one would think the chubby teenager was related to the elegant woman standing next to the counter. She looked flawless despite her age and dressed impeccably no matter if she was at a charity ball or going to the supermarket. The only trait that tied both of them to each other was their fiery red hair, which she kept in a perfect updo fully solidifying her upper-class status. Without saying a word, Leon stepped up to the little platform surrounded by three body-sized mirrors. The tailor approached him, fully armed with his measuring tape and a set of pins to hold the seams and folds in place.

"What do you think of this tie honey? I think the green would highlight your…"

The excited chatter of his mother soon faded away, as Leon focused more and more on his reflection of the three pieced mirrors. It looked like puberty forgot about him in the middle of the way. He never really grew that much in height, topping at a shorter 5'5. The prominent curve of his stomach was visible through the simple black t-shirt he was wearing, deforming The legend of Zelda's Triforce symbol together with his sagging chest. His stubby arms laid powerless on his sides, and his chubby legs were hidden under a pair of oversized jeans. His pale freckled face was covered by pimples, accentuating his unclean appearance, and it still sported the signs of infancy he never outgrew, with chubby cheeks and a small nose. The most prominent feature on him was his bright green eyes, courtesy of his mother's Irish heritage, along with his unkempt red curls. He had convinced himself long ago that an unkept body was not a problem as long as the mind flourished, so he gave up on any attempt in bettering his appearance. Dwelling in his thoughts he didn't realize the tailor was done measuring and was discussing the suit's finishing touches with his mother, who didn't wait for her son's approval on the rest of the accessories.

"Is that all mom?"

He asked a bit annoyed whilst grabbing his belongings and heading to the door.

"Yes honey, I'll arrange the rest with Mr. Schneider. You will look so handsome tomorrow. I'll see you at home later."

She answered without even looking at him. Leon sighed and headed outside, not wanting to spend another second thinking in tomorrow's ceremony, and made his way towards his house.

The Machiavelli family's estate consisted of a big two-story house, a big garden with a swimming pool, and a small guest house. There was no doubt that it belonged to very affluent people. The mansion's pearl white walls reflected the afternoon sunlight, almost giving it an incandescent glow. Leon entered through the massive oak doors and headed straight for his room. On his way there he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the massive family portrait in the house's foyer. A younger Leon smiled faintly back at him; his chubby body encased in a black suit just like his father. The elegant man looked imposing with his strong physique and masculine features. The only common thing Leon and his father had was their last name because no one would say the pale red-head was related to the mature Italian stud that was his father. His mom looked perfect as usual, leaving Leon sticking out like a sore thumb between his two impressive progenitors. He tried his best to ignore the picture like he always did and enclosed himself in his private sanctuary.

His room was decorated with posters of antique temples, beautiful palaces, and imposing sculptures. Leon's love for fantasy had slowly driven him into researching the origin of human imagination itself, and therefore human's creative history. His ultimate goal was to become erudite of anthropology, teaching and researching in the most lauded institutions on the field and finally gaining the recognition of better people than the small-town folk he loved to look down upon. He sat down on his desk to revise his prepared speech for the graduation ceremony one last time. Despite his parent's best effort to dissuade him, Leon was willing to perform a bitter soliloquy expressing his frustrations against his classmates and solidifying his status as the class' arrogant intellectual. Beneath the snarky remarks and morality lectures written on paper, laid a profound pain product of his loneliness. His train of thought slowly brought the image of Kevin into his head again. Leon was going to finally be free of watching him blossom more and more every day. But even if he moved across the country, he was still unsure he would ever be able to forget the handsome jock. After all, despite the endless hours he spent convincing himself Kevin abandoned him out of malice, he was the only person Leon ever loved.

The chubby red-head barely gave any thought to his sexuality. He considered any kind of lust as a distraction, a primal burden that impeded the full growth of the human psyche. Unlike practically all of his classmates, he wore his virginity as a badge of honor, his mind completely clean of the stain of sex. But despite trying his best to suppress his natural urges, the thought of Kevin always came through inside his head. The connection they shared when they were children still transcended the barriers Leon tried to put up to elevate himself. And the fact that the handsome jock looked like a classical Greek sculpture come to life didn't help the lascivious thoughts leave the nerd's mind. Leon tried to hate Kevin as much as he could because if he didn't, he would become the ultimate shackles preventing him from breaking free from his small-town life once and for all. The last golden rays of sunset light came into the room through the big windows, illuminating the red-head's face. His gaze was glued to the sheet of paper in front of him. This speech was an ode to intellectual growth, and a farewell to the life Leon chose to leave behind. He went into bed exhausted, nervous about the events coming up the next day. It was going to be the last time Leon Machiavelli graced his classmates with his thoughts. Afterward, the only way they could catch a glimpse of his brilliant mind was either buying his future publications or listening to his TED talks.

It was past midnight when Leon was woken up by a shiver down his spine. The pale moonlight illuminated his bedroom, casting out gruesome shadows out of every corner. The nerd had the feeling something was staring at him from the darkness. The entire room was scorching hot, despite the cold night air flowing through an open window. A low animal growl attracted Leon's attention towards the darkest corner in the bedroom. His face went pale with fear when he discovered the two big glowing red eyes staring at him maliciously. A black figure slowly crept out of the shadows, making itself visible thanks to the white moonlight. Leon stared speechless at the giant black dog growling at him menacingly from the other side of the room. His big snout was curled up into an angry snarl, making the dagger sized fangs visible. The terrified nerd was petrified in his bed, unable to muster the minimal courage to even scream for help. Without taking his eyes off of him, the black dog spoke with a deep man's voice.

"When the time comes, follow me. I will give you what you want"

And as soon as it appeared, it melted into the shadows, leaving the red-head alone to faint out of the fear he just experienced.

The golden rays of sunlight in the late morning woke Leon up, who groggily rubbed his eyes and got up. Despite sleeping through the night, he felt exhausted. He was unsure if what he saw in the darkness had been real or just a product of the stress before graduation. He looked at the clock on his nightstand, only to realize he had slept through his alarm and was already running late.

"Damn it"

He yelled exasperated as he jumped out of bed to get ready for his ceremony. He splashed some water face and combed his red curls a little bit just to hide the mark the pillow had left on his head. One of the maids brought up the finished suit his mother had bought the previous day. It was a beautiful dark grey suit, Italian cut, with an emerald green tie and a handkerchief to match. He quickly put it on, feeling it snug against his body. Despite the suit being tailored to his exact fit, the outward curve of his prominent stomach was still visible, putting a slight strain on the buttons. The emerald green tie did highlight his eyes, just like his mother told him before buying it. He took the cards for his upcoming speech and made sure he had everything ready for the ceremony. On his way out, he looked at his reflection on the big mirror in the hallway. Even after neglecting his appearance today, the beauty of the suit made him look almost distinguished. He felt strong, ready to sever his ties to this town and his past. It was going to be a memorable day, marking the beginning of his new life.

He arrived at the ground floor of the mansion, only to find it empty. A small note was laying on top of the little table next to the entrance.

"Your father and I went to the club for a quick workout. We'll see you later at school. Tell Charlie to drive you there if you don't want to take one of the cars."

He crushed the little note on his hands, feeling a pang of pain due to his parents' absence. It wasn't unusual for his mother to delegate accompanying him to the chauffeur, but Leon thought the day of his high school graduation was going to be different. He quickly dismissed any sorrow from his head, replacing it with a fiery determination. His speech today was also inspired by his aloof parents, who barely gave their only son a second thought. He looked at the big family portrait one last time. With this suit, he might have looked a bit like he belonged, but he knew the truth. His destiny was far away from this little town, which was below his expectations.

The school was buzzing with activity, with teachers running everywhere getting every last detail prepared, and students getting their graduation robes ready for the ceremony. Colorful banners decorated the main courtyard, where a scenario with a podium and a line of seats was built. The many rows of chairs in front of it were already filling themselves up with enthusiastic families, readying their cameras for their children's special moments. Leon scoffed at the scene, thinking how sad it was that this was going to be the only highlight in their offspring's life. He picked up his robe and valedictorian sash and headed towards his seat. In the distance, he saw Kevin arrive with both of his parents. The gorgeous stud was impeccably dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue suit. Every muscle was perfectly framed and enveloped in the expensive fabric, accentuating the dramatic angles his body formed. His dirty blond hair was perfectly styled in his usual messy style, and his white smile beamed stronger than the sun itself. Leon couldn't take his eyes off from his former friend, making an inhumane effort to remain focused on his goal. This day was going to be about him for the first time, not about Kevin.

The ceremony began after all the attendants took their seats, with the principal opening the day with a generic speech about school spirit and class fraternity. Leon fiddled with his cards nervously, the pressure of his big moment slowly starting to overcome him. He couldn't help but ask himself if he was willing to pull through it. After all, his classmates were still people deserving of respect, even if he considered them intellectually inferior. But then the memory of Kevin laughing with all of them, sharing the fabled fraternal bond the principal was talking about, and excluding Leon from their circle solidified his decision. The words he was going to say could be harsh, but it was something he felt entitled to share.

"And now, please welcome the Athens High class of 2019 valedictorian, Leon Machiavelli."

The sound of the applause woke Leon up from his daze, as he stood up and made his way to the podium. All the eyes in the audience were for the first time focused on him. The scorching sunlight made him feel a little light-headed, his hair matted with sweat, and his body sticking uncomfortably to his suit. He looked at the seats below him, squinting his eyes due to the sun's intense shine. All of the chairs were occupied, except two, very close to the front rows. Leon let out a sorrowful sigh, the last ember of hope of sharing this moment with his parents dying. He put his cards down, took a big breath, and started speaking.

"My fellow students of Athens High. The promised day is finally upon us, the day when we will finally take flight and begin the rest of our lives. Most of you don't even know who I am, but after today you will never forget my name. When I was writing this speech, I couldn't help but notice a few ironic facts that I would like to share with you. It is fitting that our school mascot is an owl because that is how I've felt all these years. I've dedicated countless hours to quietly observing your behavior, your desires, and every intricate social structure in our school, and I can't help but feel immense gratitude. Thanks to all of you, I've blossomed into the epitome of human intelligence and wisdom that I am today. And let me tell you why. After a long analysis, I've come up with the conclusion that my greatest fear is becoming as simple as one of you…."

Something beyond the sun's glare caught his attention. At first, he thought it might be a mirage caused by the burning heat, but the more he focused on it, the clearer it became. A shadow beneath a far tree looked eerily familiar. Leon's hands started to tremble in fear, as he recognized the black dog from last night staring at him from the distance, its glowing red eyes visible through the blinding sunlight. His entire speech suddenly vanished from his mind, together with the fleeting empowerment he was feeling moments ago. He fumbled nervously with the cards, only to drop them by accident.

"You….uh…..I…"

The echoes of his nervous words coming from the speakers resonated through the courtyard. Curious eyes focused on Leon, who quickly turned into a sweaty mess. He looked at Kevin in the front row, who had a worried look on his face. He felt a shame he had never felt before. Being humiliated in front of half the town was the last thing Leon wanted. He searched for the dog again, only for it to vanish without a trace. He looked at the public in defeat and managed to scavenge some last words to minimize the embarrassment.

"I want to thank you all for coming. Enjoy the rest of the ceremony."

With those last words, Leon left the podium and sank into his seat, wishing for the earth to swallow him. The principal took the microphone again and followed through with the protocol.

"Thank you, Leon, for those, uh, inspiring words. And now, we will present the students with their diplomas."

Leon sat in his place quietly, staring at the green grass. In his mind, the only thing that was present was the horrible feeling of embarrassment. Everything he had planned; all the preparation and previous excitement had been for nothing. The muffled sound of pomp and circumstance blasting out of the speakers was all he could hear, as the principal went through the line of students calling each of them to the podium and shaking hands with them. One face still stood out from the rest: Kevin's. One thing was failing in front of his classmates, but failing in the presence of the person he wanted to impress the most made everything worse. Now Kevin would never find out how well-off Leon thought he was despite being abandoned by the handsome jock. Somewhere inside the cacophony governing the courtyard, he heard his name, and without taking his gaze off the ground he stood up and picked up his diploma. He gave the principal a weak handshake and quickly slid back into his chair. This moment was indeed immortalized in his mind, but not in the way he intended.

Once all students got their respective acknowledgments, the ceremony ended with Oxford caps decorating the sky accompanied by deafening applause. Families reunited in the whole courtyard, hugging and blasting pictures everywhere. Leon was still in his seat when he saw both his parents approaching him.

"Honey, sorry we're late. How was your speech,” asked his mother without any hint of remorse in her voice. Leon was used to being left behind by his family, but this time he felt actual pain. If his parents were there, the only people with whom he shared some kind of superficial connection, he wouldn't have felt so helpless in the aftermath of his speech debacle. He looked up at his parents with cold wrath in his eyes, tears starting to slowly well up inside them.

"I don't ask much of you. I don't mind when you hide me at your parties, or when you go on extravagant trips without me. I just asked for your presence for one day. One day."

His reproaches were met by the unchanging poised faces of his progenitors. His mother was the first one to speak.

"Honey, not here. People are looking,” She said with a simulated smile.

"I don't care about your deluded picture of perfection, mother. You ruined the last time we were going to connect as a family. And for what? A sauna bath in your pretentious club."

His father's petrified face showed a glimpse of anger. The Machiavelli patriarch had never been very fond of his only child, considering him a nuisance and a liability for their public image. Leon just didn't fit well as the heir of the family's fortune, completely lacking charisma and skill to lead. In his eyes, the only thing his son did was cower behind his infinite collection of books in his room.

"Quit whining, Leon. You should be thankful your mother and I made time to come and congratulate you. Now, let's take a picture. We will discuss this back at home."

Leon's last hope of acceptance from his family died as soon as the flash from the camera was gone, his young heart completely overtaken by the coldness of rejection. His aloof parents then proceeded to greet the rest of the attendants. The young nerd felt completely lost inside the crowd. All he wanted to do was to get back home, pack his bags and leave on the next bus out of town. While he was analyzing the best way to scurry out of there, a sapphire flash caught his attention. He then looked towards it, only to find out the colorful splash of light came from Kevin, who was heading into the school through a side entrance. At first, he didn't pay too much attention to it, but then he saw the black dog from earlier following the handsome jock. After some consideration, Leon managed to conjure the courage to follow Kevin into the building, worried about what that black creature could do to his former friend. He pushed the door and entered the school's auditorium, only to find it dark and empty. The light to the locker rooms was on, so he made his way through the big hall towards it.

"Kevin? Are you in here?"

His nervous voice echoed through the rows of metal lockers. The air in the room felt damp and heavy, the lingering musky smell of sweaty athletes permanently staining the atmosphere. Something else was mixed in the aromas, a metallic scent, like rusted metal. He hesitantly stepped further into the locker room, his only companion being the sound of his footsteps on the tiled floor. The cold lights flickered from time to time, giving the entire scene a very ominous appearance. He turned around the corner and finally found Kevin in front of the sinks. He was staring emptily into the mirror, completely unaware of Leon's presence. The young nerd was terrified but kept approaching the young jock.

"Hey Kevin, are you alright?"

He said as he put a sweaty hand on Kevin's shoulder. He was able to perceive a red flicker on the jock's icy blue eyes, and then Kevin reacted to his touch.

"Leon, what's up? You look scared bro, are you alright?"

He said casually beaming his celebrity smile towards Leon, who just stared completely puzzled at the handsome jock.

"I saw a black dog follow you into the auditorium. Have you seen it?"

"Black dog? Bro, I really think the heat has started to affect you. I just came inside to freshen up a bit, but I haven't seen any black dog."

"But I swear I saw it come inside, I was a bit concerned it would attack you or anything. That thing has been roaming around school premises since the ceremony. I saw it during my...."

He made a pause, remembering the events that had just taken place moments before during the ceremony. The rage product of his humiliation returned to him.

"During my speech. Never mind, I can't say I'm surprised you're unable to notice even the most obvious things."

Kevin's smile faded from his face, his gorgeous gaze gaining the depth that bothered Leon so much because it made him care for a person he had convinced himself was below him.

"Leon, bro, I know things haven't been okay between us for a while. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad or something. I was just going with the flow, I never intended to hurt you. But I can't keep myself away anymore. If today is about a cycle, then there is something I need to set straight between us."

Leon's cold gaze lightened up a bit, curious about what he was talking about. He had never seen Kevin this nervous before. The young jock stared at the floor and fiddled nervously with his hands. The words came out a bit forced out of his mouth like someone was making him recite a memorized confession.

"I need to tell you something, but not here. Come to my place tonight for the party. Everyone will be there."

"I don't know Kevin. Parties aren't really my cup of tea…."

The handsome jock put his strong hand on Leon's shoulder and gave him a mischievous smile that not even the nerd's toughest defenses could resist.

"I promise to make it worth your while."

Leon hesitated for a second, completely incredulous for what he was hearing. He had already decided not to go to the party, but the day was not going according to plan. He could feel his heart beating almost out of his chest, excited and intrigued for whatever the jock was going to tell him.

"Sure, I'll see you there."

An eerie spark lit up behind Kevin's blue eyes, but Leon was so dumbstruck he completely missed it.

"Sweet bro, I'll see you later then. Nice clothes by the way."

Kevin then pulled the smaller man up for a hug, smothering him with his strong body. Leon could feel the hardness of his muscles through the expensive blue fabric. The jock then made his way towards the exit, leaving Leon in a disoriented haze. For a moment he completely forgot about the gruesome black dog and his failed speech, all he could see in his mind was Kevin's gorgeous smile.

The sun was already setting when Leon arrived at the Volker residence. Many groups of his fellow students were approaching the mansion through the extensive courtyard, already with some drinks on their hands. The young nerd hesitated, his social anxiety crippling him for a moment. He still despised the rest of his class and saw no point in trying to interact with them. If he was going to this party, it was for Kevin only. Maybe something good would come out of this terrible day after all. When he crossed through the house's massive portal, he was immediately assaulted by an explosion of light and sound completely overwhelming his senses. A sea of young adults covered the big parlor and the adjacent rooms, drinking and dancing like there was no tomorrow. The big chandelier hanging from the ceiling was adapted to flash beams of light of different colors in all directions, and a DJ booth was installed on the far end of the formal living room, blasting some modern music Leon couldn't recognize. He was an absolute amateur when it came to partying, so he felt lost and scared inside the crowd. He tried looking for Kevin everywhere, but due to his short height, he wasn't able to look past a few heads before him.

Leon approached the drinking table and ordered a soda. He tried to find a quiet corner to drink in peace before resuming his search for his former friend, but everywhere he looked was swarmed by the inebriated guests. He was quickly losing his patience, as he was pushed around by the dancing crowd over and over again. Somehow, he found his way to the big spiral staircase leading to the upper floors and jumping over the barrier to keep attendants on the ground floor, he quickly went up a few steps to get a better overview. Despite gaining the higher ground, his attempts in finding his friend proved unsuccessful. He was about to give up and head back home defeated when something caught his attention through the mahogany banister. The monstrous-looking black dog was staring at him from above, its glowing red eyes visible despite the chaotic party atmosphere. After making sure the nerd saw it, it walked further up the stairs into the second floor.

Leon remembered what the beast had told him the night before, and followed it into the higher level of the mansion. Once he made it to the upper floor, he saw the dog walking through a long hallway and entering the furthest room. The young nerd continued his pursuit and found himself in what he assumed was Kevin's room. The lavish bedroom was decorated with all sorts of trophies and medals, as well as an entertainment system appropriate for an active teenager. Leon's attention was drawn to the row of portraits on the big bookshelf. Pictures of young Kevin in all sorts of family trips and sports events were displayed in delicate frames. One picture, in particular, stood out from the rest. Leon couldn't believe his eyes as he took the silver frame in his hands and stared at the photograph. A young Kevin had his arm wrapped around a young Leon, both sitting on top of a rock next to a river. They were laughing, radiating genuine happiness through the picture. Leon couldn't believe that after all those years, Kevin kept memories from their childhood so close to him. The young man the nerd considered his bitter rival and enemy never antagonized him.

The big glass door to the balcony opened suddenly, letting a warm gust of wind into the room. Leon put the picture back in its place and headed outside. The stunning twilight sky was painted in different shades of red, showering the scenery with crimson rays of light. The hot summer breeze rustled the leaves on the trees surrounding the properties, producing a serene sound that drowned the music from downstairs. The nerd stepped on the balcony, and finally found what he was looking for. Kevin was standing on the edge of the marble banister, watching the beautiful sunset.

"Kevin?"

The handsome jock turned around to face Leon. The only thing the young nerd could see were the icy blue eyes inside his former friend's shadow, his silhouette completely encased in a red halo product of the dying sunset.

"I knew you would come. Come here, I want you to look at this."

Leon stepped forward, taking place right next to the handsome jock. Kevin flashed his regular charming smile at the nerd, who instantly turned red as a beet. For an instant, he was thankful for this unusually bright sunset that hid the blush on his cheeks.

"I wanted this evening to go perfectly. And now that you're here it's finally complete."

"Just tell me what you want Kevin. We haven't talked in years and suddenly you take interest in me. I just want to know why."

Kevin diverted his gaze into the sunset, suddenly turning serious. Leon could see the distress in his eyes.

"I never lost interest in you Leon. It was you who pushed me away. You were the one that decided to stop hanging out with me."

Leon clenched his fists in anger, the painful memories of his friend exchanging him for more popular friends still poisoning his mind.

"How dare you say that! You were the one that went away, that grew into…."

He made a nervous pause, uncertain about what he was about to say. The wrath inside of him made him spill out the words without thinking.

"Into a mindless meathead. Look at us, Kevin. Your physical prowess is unparalleled, that's a fact. But I got what truly matters: a brilliant mind. I have preserved my psyche in the best way possible. I've resisted the allure of petty teenage necessities. And now, I'm in the way of becoming one of the most brilliant thinkers in recent years!"

Kevin turned around to face the angry nerd, who was on the brink of tears due to the pent-up rage he was feeling.

"Is that what you truly want bro? It sounds very lonely to me."

"I don't need anyone. Soon, I'll be where I'm supposed to. I don't mind being alone."

Kevin grabbed Leon's arm, pulling him closer. The nerd could feel the intense heat radiating from the hunk's body. He stared directly into his former friend's blue eyes.

"Are you sure you want to be alone? I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I got all the attention I want, from anyone. When you look like me, it's an easy task."

He said flexing his meaty arm, straining the soft blue fabric on the sleeves of his suit. Leon couldn't take his eyes off of Kevin's body, completely mesmerized by the jock's posing show. He failed to notice his friend's eyes shining in a dark red shade from time to time. The jock's voice turned from warm and concerned, into cold and aggressive.

"No matter how much you lie to yourself Leon, you want to be like me. To finally be accepted by everyone, including your parents. Picture it for a second. Finally, be worthy of being called your father's son. What use is your intelligence to the Machiavelli family, when you lack the courage to destroy your fears? Truth is, you're no more than a resentful dweeb."

Kevin continued flexing, taking off his suit's jacket, his movements starting to take on a seductive flair.

"Stop it. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I know. I know everything about you bro, including your darkest secret."

Leon suddenly opened his eyes like plates, completely incredulous for what was coming out of the jock's mouth. It was impossible anyone knew how he felt about Kevin, he didn't tell anyone. Kevin smiled with a hint of malice, knowing he had Leon right where he wanted him. His blue eyes now shone in a permanent crimson hue.

"That's right, I know that you like me. Your mind is indeed a complex maze, but no psyche cannot be cracked open. I could feel the fear of being discovered practically pouring out of your pores."

Leon looked down in defeat, feeling the embarrassment bubble out of him. He knew this was too good to be true. Kevin approached Leon once again, taking his chubby face with his hands and pulling it up to face him. The nerd's green eyes were pooled with tears.

"There's no reason to be miserable. The reason I called you here tonight was to tell you I feel the same way about you."

Leon couldn't help but open his mouth incredulously, his mind still registering the words that just came out of the jock's mouth.

"Wha—what?"

"I've also never connected with anyone the way I connected with you. You know the real me, buried beneath this sculptural body. That means I also know the real you. You don't have to be alone."

The young nerd's sad frown slowly turned into a smile. His face was inches away from his friend's, feeling the jock's hot breath on his skin. And then he smelled it. The same metallic smelled he caught in the locker room back at school, only this time it was much more intense. He also took notice of Kevin's glowing red eyes.

"Wait, this is not right. What's happened to you?"

Kevin's grip on Leon's face tightened, his face gaining a sinister flair.

"I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be. The question here is: are you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you who you are supposed to be? I know the real you is buried beneath this intellectual façade. We just gotta pull him out."

Kevin started caressing Leon's overweight body, rubbing his torso over the suit's jacket. The young nerd was giving in to the moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of his friend's strong hands on his body. One last glimmer of resistance made him suddenly pull away.

"No. I don't want this. I'm above these carnal sensations. I've never done anything with anyone."

Kevin smiled, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt, exposing the ripped divide of his upper chest.

"I know you're a virgin, I don't have any problems with that."

"But I do. I don't want it to be this way. If it ever comes to it, I want it to be special."

Kevin's confident smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a displeased scowl.

"Look at this Leon. The sunset, the balcony, the hot summer air. You said it yourself, this is the end of one phase of our lives. Isn't this special enough for you?"

"I don't know Kevin; this doesn't feel right."

"Look, it's very simple. I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me. I just need you to renounce this ridiculous virtuous perception of your virginity. Give in to your flesh, and your body will become what you truly desire."

"My body is okay as it is."

Said Leon embarrassed by the remark of the increasingly impatient jock.

"You know it isn't. All these years you have deceived yourself in thinking you value the brilliance of your mind when in reality it's what has alienated you from everyone. Relinquish that notion, and you shall have everything you desire."

The nerd looked at his friend nervously, completely unsure about what he wanted. He thought he was sure about who he was, but what Kevin said was true. What's the point of intelligence if all you need to be accepted is purely physical? Was brilliant wisdom worth the loneliness? While Leon dwelled in his thoughts, a shadow materialized on the corner behind him. What first looked like a black dog slowly grew into a human form, taking the appearance of an extremely muscular young man, his body full of scars. He planted his crimson red eyes on Kevin, who nodded in agreement as his face grew more sinister.

"I'll make it easy for you. Kiss me. If you do, I'll know you're ready to take the next step and leave your old self behind. You'll finally be better than anyone else, just like you wish. Be warned though, there will be no turning back."

Leon was then assaulted by all the painful memories of his past. The loneliness of growing up as an outcast, the abandonment of his parents, and the disconnection from everything and everyone started crushing him. He had an opportunity to have what he truly wanted, not what he convinced himself he wanted. Hypnotized by the jock's supernatural gaze, he approached his friend with determination. Standing on the tip of his feet, he placed his lips on his. Black smoke started enveloping them, completely encasing the entire balcony and isolating it from the world. Leon felt butterflies in his stomach, as the kiss continued to gain intensity. A scorching hot feeling started seeping into his being, product of Kevin's mouth. When he realized what he had done, it was too late. He was completely under the control of the handsome jock, who started to take on a dominant role, aggressively pushing his tongue into the nerd's mouth. The last thing he consciously realized was what that taste in Kevin's mouth was: blood.

Energy started seeping into Leon's body, slowly impregnating his being. He was lost in the intense feeling his connection with Kevin was causing. The waves of power-hitting his body started making his blood boil, turning his body into an incandescent mass. He was sweating profusely, as the energy coursing through his veins unleashed different chain reactions in his cells, resulting in a vastly increased metabolic rate. The fatty deposits inside of him started to melt away, vaporized to fuel the nerd's body's incredible energy demand. His pants fell, as the rest of the suit started to hang loosely from his body. The formerly chubby red-head was left practically only in skin and bones. Kevin broke the kiss and looked at what his friend had become. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, and his formerly round face was left looking severely malnourished. He smiled victorious, knowing the spell was doing its job. He needed the man in the back to complete the transference, so he called him forward to participate in the passionate scene.

Kevin took his finger, rubbing it on his friend's lips seductively, as the muscular man in the back slowly pushed down the shoulders of the now skinny nerd to the ground. In one swift motion, the handsome jock ripped his pants off his legs, exposing a menacing bulge that was quickly gaining size in front of Leon's entranced gaze.

"Is this what you wanted? To serve and pleasure me?"

Asked Kevin dominantly, looking down at his friend. Even though Leon was still watching everything going on, the sensations in his body were driving him like an automaton. A part of his consciousness still resisted, yelling desperately that he was better than what he was becoming, but it was slowly getting smaller as if it were burned away by the divine energy coursing through his veins. He answered in a stupefied voice, unable to resist the temptation

"Yes."

"Wrong answer."

Said Kevin fishing out his manhood from his briefs and putting it on the nerd's open mouth. The same metallic taste accompanied by other muskier aromas immediately assaulted Leon's senses. He licked and tasted the meaty tube inside of him, desperately worshipping it with his tongue. The scarred man behind him then pushed his head further into the jock's crotch, making him swallow the entire seven thick inches at once. Kevin then proceeded to drill inside his friend's mouth with aggressive thrusts back and forth. Each time the phallus penetrated the nerd's mouth, the pressure inside of him caused his bones to elongate. Each limb stretched several inches, along with his spine, leaving the nerd with over a foot and a half extra height. The hands holding the jock's legs cracked and grew, along with his formerly small feet. Once his skeleton stopped breaking, the scarred man pulled Leon to his feet, his pants staying on the floor. There was a fight between bliss and misery inside of him, causing a blast of emotions that quickly flooded his head. It was like his mind was inside a pressurized pot ready to explode.

"You are the one that has to be served and pleasured. You have to conquer fear."

Kevin lifted the now taller red-head with supernatural strength and flipped him around, exposing his naked rear. Leon fell forward, grabbing on to the scarred man to remain on his feet, and felt the scorching hot head of his friend's member rub menacingly on his crack. He desired him more than anything in the world, his carnal passion completely overtaking his puritanical nature.

"Once we finally break your mind, you'll be able to become the god you were chosen to be."

And with those last words, Kevin impaled his friend mercilessly, getting one last howl of agony out of the nerd. Leon felt as if a dam had broken inside his head, flooding his mind and washing his old self away. Kevin's thrusts started pumping more divine energy into the red-head, which traveled inside his body filling out his newfound emptiness. Pure pleasure caused him to moan loudly. His blood pumped new power into his whole body, causing his muscles to twitch and ripple responding to the strength. His glutes were the first part of his body to expand. The handsome jock's phallus was quickly being swallowed further by two inflating globes of muscle. It looked like he was humping a pair of overgrown watermelons. The growth spread down his legs, filling out his quads and hamstrings with thick columns of muscle, growing as thick as two oak trees. Deep cuts were etched painfully on them, the skin stretched to its limits over the massive muscles. His calves grew to match the upper legs, gaining enough size to rival a football. His feet expanded to accommodate the still coming weight.

The pumped energy seeped simultaneously into his core muscles. Veins started gaining thickness the more power flowed in them, changing the muscle underneath. His lower back took the form of a large spearhead, two pillars of muscle slowly crawling up his back. His lower abs popped into existence, framed by two increasingly large obliques. First two, then four, then six, and ending in eight grenade-sized bumps on his stomach. The muscular pillars on his back started flaring like two flags, spreading growth into the red-head's lat muscles. The suit's jacket couldn't resist the growth for long, shredding itself to pieces revealing the sweaty skin underneath. Kevin grabbed the growing back with lust, feeling the searing hot muscle underneath move and inflate. The man's lats spread wide like a fighter plane, the muscle fibers fighting to fit into the already large frame. Mountains and valleys decorated the expanse of the magnificent back before the thrusting jock.

His chest was the next to grow as if gravity was pulling the muscle downwards. Two massive slabs of flesh etched themselves in Leon's upper torso, increasing his weight and making him widen his stance to find his new balance. The inflating pecs rose higher too like they were trying to reach his chin, while the lower parts expanded themselves reaching the limit of the red-head's anatomy. Once the veins reached his shoulders, these exploded in growth, reaching the size of an ancient Grecian helmet. Divine blood pumped into his arms, his biceps swelling to the size of big cannonballs. His triceps expanded underneath his arms, quickly adding girth to the now powerful limbs, reaching the size of a Howitzer cannon. His lower arms etched themselves with strong sinews, growing as wide as baseball bats. His hands hardened and swelled with new strength, gaining the power to crush the hardest skull with ease.

Thick veins traveled up his neck, followed by thick muscle cords making it seem more like a bull's neck than a human's. Once his Adam's apple finished its transformation, his high moans of pleasure slowly turned into a low manly grunt. Muscle piled into the squaring jaw, giving him a cartoonishly hyper-masculine look. His cheekbones rose higher, and his nose grew and broke, filling in with thick tissue. His forehead expanded further, hooding his eyes and giving him a menacing look. Kevin accelerated the rhythm, reaching the mortal limits of his body.

"Taste true power brother, and take your place above those beings you always deemed inferior."

With one final thrust, he emptied his burning load into the titan in front of him. The divine seed seeped into every tissue, making his body gain even more thickness than before. The muscles gained the strength and prowess of the best warrior the world had ever seen. The essence then corrupted what was left of his being, turning him into a new deity. Blood flowed out of his pupils, forever turning the former green eyes to an intense crimson hue. A new personality engraved itself in his head, growing increasingly aggressive the more he became aware of his existence. His puritanical nature was replaced with an insatiable lust for flesh, either in sex or in battle. His enviable knowledge was replaced by a killer instinct that made him a fearsome foe for whoever was misfortunate enough to challenge him. Eons of battle techniques and combat prowess flourished inside of him, aging him into a man in his masculine prime. The former erudite was reborn in the form of the fiercest warrior in the world. And as such, his nature turned dominant, making him displeased about the situation he was in. He stood up, now much larger than the two other men next to him.

"That's more like it,” He said in a deep voice, flexing his new muscles. Kevin and the other man stared triumphantly at their creation, watching the giant relish in his raw strength. They both felt a psychic bond form with the titan, now that he gained dominion over them. The former Leon turned to face them, his glowing red eyes staring at the scarred man with lust.

"I'm still not quite there yet. Come, brother. It's your time to serve me."

He pushed the muscular man on the banister and grabbed his own still tiny penis. He could barely hold it with his massive hands, the 4 inches stuck out barely enough for his fingers to grab. With inhuman strength he pulled the muscular man's ass apart, exposing the coveted goal for his manhood. He managed to penetrate the scarred man, and another wave of pleasure assaulted him, making him roar in bliss. He started thrusting into the man with such force it started cracking the solid banister underneath. The lesser deity moaned delighted, as he felt the member inside of him grow further, pushing deeper into his body. The titan's phallus grew to heroic proportions, gaining almost 8 inches in length and resembling a thick torpedo. The balls slapping the man's muscular thighs expanded as well, dropping lower to bovine proportions. New hormones started pumping into the giant, altering its appearance even further. Kevin watched smiling as his red curls receded a bit on his head and turned pitch black, along with his eyebrows, which grew thick and arched themselves upwards. His face started taking on a more exotic look, his lips thickening and his nose growing a bit more. The black bubble around the fornicating gods started breaking, dark smoke seeping into every pore of the giant. His pale skin darkened to a light brown, and dark follicles started popping out of his entire body. His manly jaw was quickly covered by a shadow, which grew into a magnificent black beard. The hair was so thick the skin underneath was not visible. A carpet of black hair covered his body, growing thicker on his crotch and under his arms. He kept thrusting with increased fury, feeling his own divine seed churn in his balls. He was drenched in sweat, a manly aroma quickly surrounding him. He smelled like old iron, like burnt gunpowder, like a warrior in his prime. With a powerful roar, he exploded inside the scarred man, fully cementing his new birth as Assad, the king of war.

The scarred man dropped to the ground completely exhausted, leaving Assad standing naked under the crepuscular sky. The jock scanned the titan from top to bottom, savoring every aspect of the new god before him. Assad barely gave him a second look, his old knowledge and memories gone.

"Father will be very pleased."

"Indeed I am."

A bone-chilling voice came out of the shadows in front of them. Assad watched as the god of war emerged from the darkness in his full glory. Ares rarely smiled, but he couldn't help to curl his lips up a little bit once he saw his sons' creation. He was right in delegating his power and the transference to them. Assad immediately fell on one knee, bowing respectfully before his master.

"You bred it into a full warrior, well done."

Kevin just smiled solemnly, accepting the god's compliments. Ares suspected the chosen one had to renounce voluntarily to his virtue to achieve its fullest potential. That is why he let the natural lust do his task for him. He provided the essence; the rest came from the new champion.

"Ready to serve milord.” Said Assad without lifting his gaze.

"And you will. I gave you a new life as a descendant of humanity's most powerful warriors, and in exchange, I own you now. There's something I need you to do. If you succeed, you will be allowed to take a place next to me as a worthy god. I want you to destroy the goddess Athena."

Ares then took his spear and cut his arm open. Ichor fell to the ground, taking the shape of a golden sword. Assad took the weapon in his hand, feeling its power course through him. A shining bronze armor formed around his torso, along with a helmet and a red cape. Ares was satisfied by the look of his new pawn.

"Meet me in Greece, by the feet of Mount Olympus the night of the next full moon."

"Yes, milord. I won't fail you."

With a powerful kick of his legs, the giant leaped into the sky, disappearing in the red horizon. Ares approached the banister and stood next to his sons, watching his creation advance towards his destiny.

"You can get off that meat suit now, Phobos."

Kevin's face produced one last sinister smile, as a dark shadow stepped out of him, his body falling to the ground completely unconscious. The black mass took the form of another overly muscular scared man, identical to the one still laying on the ground.

"This was way too easy, father."

"Don't be arrogant. Influencing a mortal's free will is no easy task. It's different than just persuading them with fear, as you might know."

"I didn't have to do much. This mortal in particular had very strong feelings for the champion. I just had to break his self-control barrier a bit. And I admit I let him feel some of the pleasure too, although I'm sure Deimos there had way more enjoyment."

Ares stood silently staring into the sunset. He made sure he created the best warrior of them all. He proved that the virtues so dearly preached by his stuck-up sister were vulnerable to his raw strength. He chose to let the champion be corrupted by his own desire. This was going to be his opportunity to eclipse his siblings and get his father's acceptance. He looked at his son, able to see the beauty underneath the godling's intimidating appearance. Aphrodite's image came back to him, remembering the unbreakable bond both gods possessed. He wondered if she would be capable of moving against Zeus. The goddess of beauty was not to be underestimated, so Ares spared no effort in creating the best Champion he could to compete.

"So, you interfered with the mortal's love interest. Your mother wouldn't approve."

#musclegrowth #transformation #championofolympus

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #15: Schrödinger’s break

Words: ca. 3,700 Setting: modern AU Lemon: no CW: wrong Witcher facts (sorry Yen!)

“What do you mean it doesn’t count?!” Anna could tell that her face was tomato-red, since she could feel the heat in her puffed-up cheeks.

“Well, they clearly were on a break, were they not?!” Elsa’s voice was positively dripping with restrained annoyance.

That was the difference between them - while Anna got heated up and was all fire, Elsa turned cold and icy. Anna hated that version of her sister. Ice queen, indeed. Yet with sick satisfaction, she noted that Elsa’s usually pale complexion also sported a hefty colour in her cheeks. She felt a flare in her throat and belly and, like an out-of-body experience, she couldn’t stop herself and this argument, and so pressed on:

“So you think cheating is okay then at the first sight of trouble - is that it?!”

“Well, how exactly is it cheating if they are not even together, Anna! Of course it’s scummy to-”

“So you think cheating is okay on a technicality? Wow, that’s very assuring, thanks a lot.” Anna huffed and crossed her arms indignantly. What does one even do with arms in situations like this?

“Why are you making this so personal - this is so stupid - I mean, how old is this show exactly now? 20 years?!” Elsa almost whispered to hopefully calm the situation down.

She was painfully aware of the people in the little cafe, giving them harsh side-looks and judging them quietly. Anna was immune to stuff like this, but Elsa felt their stares almost physically. And this was their usual cafe and go-to place on late-work mornings, which made it even worse.

Her fingers found the rounded edge of their table as she rubbed her thumb against it, until she finally found an imperfection that she could push her thumb in even harder.

The blonde side-glanced around them, not making any real eye contact yet trying to mentally ward off the surrounding people. Most of them quickly looked away as Elsa furiously glanced in their direction. She felt a headache coming on.

“So I’m stupid now for caring what my girlfriend thinks about cheating?”

“What, NO- how is that - I-I didn’t say anything like that!” Elsa’s fingers gripped the smooth wood of the table even harder; the pressure on her knuckles made her whole hand ache.

“Anna, let’s not do this right now” she tried to lower her voice even more, but could immediately tell by Anna’s face that it was a mistake. A big one.

“Yeah- okay, I get it. Let’s NOT do this!” The younger sister shuffled her phone back into her backpack, and yanked her haphazardly placed jacket hard from the chair at their table.

“Are you seriously storming out because of-“

“Yeah! Yeah, I am!” Anna roughly pushed her arms through the sleeves of her rain-jacket. Her braids were rabidly bobbing with every jerky action of the furious redhead. “Do you think I’m too stupid,” she angrily signed quotation marks at this “to not know how embarrassed you are right now?!”

Elsa couldn’t help but glance around them, to the other patrons of the cafe, as Anna practically yelled their grievances into the air.

“See!! You’re doing it right now! If I’m too embarrassing for you as it is, I’m going! So - have fun!”

Anna quickly slung her backpack on her shoulder, stomping out as quickly as she could and leaving a speechless Elsa at their table.

She didn’t dare to look around again, since it would have been pointless anyway. She could practically feel all of their stares like daggers.

She kept her eyes down on her now lukewarm chocolate and angrily blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. She stopped gripping the table to nurse her aching head with her fingers.

She always hated Ross.

***

“What crawled into your morning coffee and gave you the biggest resting bitch face I’ve ever seen? And that’s already accounting even your usual standards!”

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. She loved Meg, she really did. In fact, she was her favourite coworker in all of Arendelle Corp, but today she felt like she was not capable of the banter and dry wit this required.

“Meg, just leave her alone already! Can’t you see she’s struggling as it is?!” Raps piped up. Leave it to her PA to fend off the inquisitive brunette. But knowing her, it will do no good anyway.

“Hey blondie. I meant snowflake over there. Leave the talk to the grown-ups.” Meg countered with her usual dismissiveness.

“Oh stop it, you two! You’re giving me a bigger headache as is.” Elsa slapped her papers on her desk. When she looked up, she could practically see the concern in her friend’s eyes - a rare sign indeed, to see Meg so open about her emotions.

“I think someone needs a sugar fix - blondie, get your boss some hot chocolate… and make it extra sweet.” Meg sat on the edge of Elsa’s desk, looking over to the short-haired PA to gauge her reaction.

Rapunzel looked over her boss and saw the plea in her eyes, pleading for peace and not the usual shenanigans those two got up to. She sighed.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” She slowly packed her things up, made sure to turn down the volume of her little hot-pink Bluetooth speaker and took her purse with her.

When she quietly closed the door, Meg didn’t waste another second.

“Okay, so what’s wrong? You look like you’re… ” She briefly touched Elsa’s shoulder but didn’t leave it there. She knew her too well for that.

Elsa dropped her head into her hands and breathed in deeply.

“I had a huge fight with Anna this morning… and the worst part is I don’t even know for what and why? We started to talk about what we used to do as children-” she swallowed harshly because she knew she had to be careful.

The official story was that they were childhood friends. It was easy to change the general logistics of their meeting. But it was hard, in some specific cases, to veil how deep their connection was.

“-and we talked about Friends.” she concluded.

“Wait - the TV show?”

“Yeah, Friends.” Elsa clarified “So all of a sudden we get to the topic of Ross and Rachel’s break-up and it goes all downhill from there about cheating and about how I didn’t think he did-“

“You don’t?” Meg asked her surprised.

“No, I don’t. They were on a BREAK.” Elsa felt her cold anger gripping her again. It was so pointless and unnecessary - stupid Ross! - why did this keep happening?!

Meg’s laughter snapped her out of her thoughts.

“I’m sorry snowflake, but this has to be the cutest yet most idiotic lover’s quarrel I have ever heard in my whole life, so far.” Meg ran her fingers through her hair. “I know it’s rude to laugh… but Elsa. I mean.” She stopped there but let out another snort.

“I know, I .. it’s positively atrocious.” She breathed out her frustration. “I really don’t know what this means or what even caused this. Nothing has been out of the ordinary lately. At least I think so…?” She frantically started to question herself. Was she just not seeing it? Was she so inconsiderate and not noticed her sister’s pain or grievances of late? What if it wasn’t nothing and it turned out-

“And is she by any chance on her period or getting there?”

“Meg, that’s sexist!” Elsa said indignantly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it untrue.” Meg shrugged “I always get bitchy around that time and boy, do I get all the feels when it happens.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Elsa deadpanned.

“I know. But you love me for it.” Meg nudged the blonde’s shoulder as another small snort escaped Elsa.

“So in any case” Meg soldiered on, “what’s the grand romantic gesture you planned to show your undying love now that it happened?”

“A… grand gesture?” Elsa didn’t like the sound of this. Not at all.

“Oh Elsa, Elsa… why are you so clueless about women when you are one yourself - of course grand gesture! Something that’s bigger than your fight, so as to leave that the only big impression of the day!” She side-glanced at Elsa, a mischievous grin on her lips.

“Get her something big or better: get some poor street performers and make them sing some positively sappy love-song or something while you stand in a sea of roses telling her how dumb you have been.”

“Well, that sounds totally feasible.” Elsa shook her head into her hand, cradling her chin as she stared into space. She never was someone to openly show her feelings… or her life to others. And the idea was simply ridiculous.

She startled as her PA quietly opened her door with one hand, the other cradling the promised hot chocolate and a paper bag with something positively lovely-smelling in it.

“I thought, what’s better than hot chocolate? A fresh chocolate croissant to it! So… double the fun?” Rapunzel smiled, all teeth, and it was hard to not feel her heart softening at that. She had it good here.

“Alright snowflake, enjoy your spoils and tell me your battle plan once you have it!”

Meg fished out one of her reports on Elsa’s desk - thank god it was already finished - and sauntered off without looking back.

Rapunzel placed her beverage and pastry bag on the very same spot Meg just sat on, and went back to her desk to turn up the volume on her little radio.

“Thanks Raps. You’re an angel.” Elsa smiled as she opened up the lid of her steaming hot chocolate, savouring the smell of the sweet concoction.

As Rapunzel laughed at that, she tugged her short hair back behind her ears “You tell Mr. Weselton that, when you have the chance.”

The radio tuned into an upbeat song they played at least 3 times in the span of a day. If Elsa recalled correctly, her PA told her they’re a Korean girl band and all the rage now. Pink something… hm.

“Say… how does that little speaker of yours work and where did you get it?”

***

Anna tugged on her new and tight yoga pants, trying to get the seam out of her crotch. To no avail. Typical.

“… at the same time there is a lightness; a sensation of floating. Feel both of these things at once. You feel the waves lapping at your feet. They beckon you to step closer. One step at a time, you feel the purifying power of the ocean. Its body envelopes you. Notice if your tongue is touching the roof of your mouth. Let your tongue soften down…”

Anna stood in the middle of the living room, the furniture haphazardly pushed against the walls.

The TV was still on and the PlayStation was still running, but at least it was muted. The Witcher was still standing in the maze, waiting for any input to further this party along. Amiss in between all those pompous Novigrad nobles and probably feeling kind of lost? …

Wasn’t he supposed to look for his missus? Jennifer… or something? It was already some time ago she played it last and had a hard time keeping it all straight.

But Anna tried to not think about this. About how this reminded her of Elsa. Elsa, who loves reading and who devoured the whole series in a matter of days. She just got the game to be able to talk to her about it - and it was really good, actually! She started with the third and last one, but she could piece things together with Elsa’s little anecdotes and the overall pointers in the story, but no - here she was. NOT thinking about it. No sirree!

“… it carries away your sorrows. It affirms the power within you. Life is good. Life is precious. Say it-”

“Say it.” Anna murmured and tried to concentrate on the voice again, pushing any thought of Jen or Elsa out of her mind.

“- out loud.”

“Out loud.” Anna’s voice rose with the last word.

“Life is peace.”

“Oh.” She opened her eyes. Now she felt silly.

With a deep breath, Anna closed them again and envisioned the waves lapping at her feet. Again and again. She pictured seagulls in the distance, imagined hearing their distinctive cry. They got closer. Their cries got shriller as the waves of the water, imaginatively yet unruly, lapped against her feet, quicker and quicker, with harsh -

“Fudge this!” Anna tugged on her braids as she groaned out loud.

Wasn’t meditation supposed to make her feel better? To forget and relax? What a mess she was still feeling. Still an undercurrent of anger and hurt, but mostly regret now. She could see how she took this way too far, how it tugged on her insecurities - mostly unfounded, she could admit! - of her constant abandonment issues, even if Elsa showed no indication of leaving her. Even if she could tell that, sometimes their .. unusual situation was still not sitting right with the older sibling at points. But mostly, it was good! Really.

Now all Elsa had to do was come back from work so they could talk it out, make up, and kiss it better… So that was the plan. But it was already later than usual for her sister to return home. If only she could calm herself down enough to rationally and calmly talk through it so it wouldn’t even be a bigger mess than it was right now. What was the worst that could happen, right? No matter what, they still were family! At least that, even if - Anna painfully tugged on her braids again.

She took a deep breath and tried to banish all feverish thoughts from her head. She listened to her breathing as it flowed in and out. She listened to the little specks of sounds coming from the window. She could almost make out a pattern as the little clanks came almost every three breaths.

- Wait, what?!

Anna hesitantly went over to the window; all the while the suspicious sounds didn’t cease to stop. Just as she reached it, she saw a tiny pebble hit the windowpane as it immediately dropped down again. Pushing the flimsy curtain aside, she looked down wearily. What kind of crazy - serial killer or stalker really- would do this?!

But what she found was her older sister flicking those pebbles up their window. Her cheeks were unusually flushed and Anna could see her breath escaping red lips in harsh puffs, curling in the cold air. Her golden hair was wind-whipped and some loose strands escaped and fluttered in the breeze. She’s never seen Elsa so…disheveled and radiant at the same time. She looked like a spirit stepped out of the night. Like a beautiful and elegant… wraith? Wait, was that even a thing?

As she fiddled with the old window lock, she watched as Elsa dropped all her stones on the ground as she frantically rummaged through her purse with one hand; the other one was clutching her phone tightly.

“Elsa?” Anna called out just as Elsa was straightening herself again, with one arm outstretched above her head with a small hot pink… device held high above her.

“Elsa - what.. ?”

“Anna! I-I’ve been so stupid,” Elsa cried out “it doesn’t matter that we don’t see eye to eye on everything or that we’re different - but whatever happens, I’ve always-” just then a guitar riff cut the blonde off as a familiar male voice started to sing

So no one told you life was gonna be this way

-Clap clap clap clap-

Your jobs a joke, you’re broke

Your love life’s DOA -

Anna couldn’t hold back the manic laughter that escaped her as she frantically tried to take everything in. Was this really happening?!

Her sister making a fool out of herself. In front of their window. In front of their neighbours. In front of everyone. And most importantly, in front of her! That was so not Elsa and yet here she was, doing this to make her laugh and to prove to her how much she means to her. She could feel tears prickling in her eyes even as she sported the biggest grin that she tried to hide behind her hands.

your week, your month

Or even your year but

“I’ll BE THERE FOR YOOOUU” Elsa belted as she stood there steadfast yet with the pink Bluetooth speaker slightly wobbling in her hand as she pushed through the strain in her left arm.

Elsa felt terrified about the whole spectacle, but her worries took a backseat as she saw Anna clearly laughing, her eyes shining with happiness. So - huge success! And worth everything ten times over.

(When the rain starts to pour)

“I’LL BE THERE FOR YOUU” Anna joined her this time even when her voice cracked a bit with emotion.

(Like I’ve been there before)

They both laughed out loud at themselves and couldn’t make it through the last chorus. Both their eyes were trained on just one another. Elsa’s heart felt full and like bursting in any second.

(‘Cause you’re there for me too)

The song came to its conclusion, yet Elsa was still standing there with her speaker held high. This time, Anna could tell the nervousness was replaced by elation and happiness, even through the awkward moment of silence that was now threatening to envelope them.

“Come up here already you sappy fool!”

Not a moment longer after the invitation, Elsa stuffed the speaker back into her purse and dashed to the front gate, avoiding to look into any windows as she did so.

She felt her thighs burn as she sprinted up the two flights of stairs in record speed to join her love.

She could hear the keys turning just on the last steps of the stairs, as the warm glow of their apartment illuminated the dark staircase. She looked up just as her sister stepped into the door frame. Anna was encompassed in the soft glow of the light that looked almost like a halo around the contours of her body. After this rough day, it truly seemed like a vision to Elsa.

“Anna, I’m so sorry-“

“Oh, Elsa. But stop. Just come to me already - please!” the redhead sniffed as she wiped her nose with her wrist.

Elsa practically flew into her arms. Her arms snaked around the scrawny shoulders as she pushed her head into the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply. She felt Anna trembling in her embrace, and she was glad to hear the snort of laughter through the tears as she did so.

“I love you so much, Anna. Let’s never do this again.” she breathed into her sister’s collarbone as she pushed her cheek further into the warm skin of Anna’s shoulders.

“It had a pretty remarkable end, if you ask me - so… I won’t make any promises” Anna left a wet kiss on her forehead as she rubbed the blonde’s back soothingly up and down. “But let’s go inside. I’m sure the neighbours are entertained enough for now.”

Elsa gently pushed Anna and herself inside as she closed the door behind her and double-locked the locks.

Once safe inside, she let herself rest against the locked door and let her fingers push against the sturdy wood as she did so.

Anna was taking her girlfriend in with a soft smile. She knew how much this took out of Elsa and what a big step this was for her to do. And she loved her even more for it. Anna watched her like a hawk as she pushed herself up to take off her boots and her coat and meticulously hung everything up in its space at their coat rack.

With patience never being her strong suit, Anna immediately bounced on her lover once she put everything away and pushed her back into the groaning door. Her lips sought out her sister’s as she pressed her harshly against it. Elsa frantically deepened the kiss, her cold hands holding Anna’s cheeks closely as her fingers stroked her temples. Anna felt breathless at the heat that threatened to engulf her, yet the cold and gentle fingers ground her to reality. She had to break the kiss for air but stayed close to Elsa’s lips, not being able to bear any distance between them right now.

“I love you so much, Elsa I…”

The smile the blonde gave her was a radiant one.

Elsa’s hand found its way around Anna’s hips, brushing the curve of them and enjoying the soft material. She kissed the freckles right beside Anna’s nose, one of her favourite spots in general. It always made Anna melt.

“You’re so sweet, my love.”

Her hands started to warm up, Anna could tell, as Elsa gently tugged on hers to lead her further into their apartment.

“What happened here?” Elsa’s eyebrows rose high as she saw the mess that was left in their living room. Anna felt Elsa’s hand gently squeeze hers.

“Well .. I thought I’d try to center myself with some meditation and some yoga or something.”

“Oh, now those pants make sense… though I wouldn’t mind any occasion, really.” Anna felt her cheeks flush as she saw her sister’s eyes roam over her. “They suit you, you know.”

Why was it that Elsa could make her feel just like a lovelorn teenager just in a matter of seconds, even when they were already together for years now.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re playing the Witcher?” the blonde studied the scene in front of her.

Gerald sitting patiently in a garden - in his finest clothes? Elsa tried to place the scene in her head, considering that Anna started almost at the very end - so very much like her, mused Elsa.

“Yeah, it makes me think of you so…” Anna rubbed her neck. “I’m just at this party with Triss and we just kissed and now-“

Elsa whipped her head around instantly with a sudden and dangerous glint in her eyes.

“You what?!”

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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love-sapphirerose · 3 years

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Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 16 Review

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-16/.168486

I got a bad feeling about "Double-Edged Moroha" from the moment it started. You'd think, given that last week's episode randomly decided to break away from the story to have a flashback story time with Riku, that the show would take even a scant minute or two to establish things like context and pacing: Where the girls are. Why they are there. Some vague idea about how long it has been since that godforsaken misadventure with the Rapey Mountain Arsonist. You know, the simple stuff that helps the audience figure out what the hell is going on. But no, it doesn't even take a couple of seconds for Yashahime to start screwing up the most basic rules of “How to Tell a Coherent Story”, as we're plunged right into the middle of some anonymous mountain valley or something, with Moroha staring down Yawaragi, telling her cousins that there's some major beef going back three whole years that needs settling. If you don't recognize who this woman is, she's one of the Wolf Tribe members who has appeared exactly one time in the series before now, in a single frame from the very end of last-week's episode.

It honestly feels like something got supremely screwed up in the show's pre-production, and the Yashahime staff realized that they needed to cut an episode right out of the middle of the run, so they took the final scenes from the episode that led up to this climactic showdown between Moroha and Yawaragi, cut everything else that came before it, and slapped it on to the beginning of “Double-Edged Moroha”. Maybe that would explain the seemingly arbitrary placement of the Big Reveal episode from last week? The way it was written meant it could have been aired at almost any time and made an equal amount of sense (read: Not a whole lot), and the only information from “Farewell Under the Lunar Eclipse” that ties into “Double-Edged Moroha” at all is that Moroha ended up with Kouga and the wolves when her parents got sucked into the Black Pearl. If we hadn't gotten that single shot of Moroha being left to the wolves by Hachi, then “Double-Edged Moroha” would have come across as completely nonsensical. As it stands, it's now only 95% nonsense, which is technically an improvement. Good job, I guess?

If you couldn't tell, this was yet another episode of Yashahime that made me absolutely furious with how poorly written and executed it was, but in order to fully explain why, I'll need to cover the events of “Double-Edged Moroha” in chronological order, because the flashback-structure of the episode is stupid and pointless. We begin with the very last flashback, which shows us how Yawaragi attempted to train Moroha in the art of mastering her demonic transformations. We later learn that Kagome apparently placed a seal on these powers in some scene that we never got to actually see because the show was too busy failing at Towa and Setsuna's backstories, but Yawaragi decided to give Moroha the power to transform into Beniyasha with the rouge. Yawaragi then spends years yelling at Moroha for relying on the rouge too much and warning her about how too many transformations will result in her becoming a permanently bloodthirsty monster, so, uh, great call there, Yawaragi. Really thought that one through.

Anyways, one of the days Moroha goes berserk with her Beniyasha self and ends up calling down the wrath of a horde of

terribly-animated Birds of Paradise

before passing out. Instead of doing the logical thing and running away, Yawaragi just sort of stands there and decides they're screwed. That's when a weasel man (who is very helpfully named “Weasel Man”) wanders into frame from literally nowhere and offers to sell Yawaragi the Armor of the Iron Rat he's wearing, so that she can blow up the Birds of Paradise and whatnot. Not only is the completely random appearance of this obviously sketchy weasel not draw Yawaragi's suspicions at all, she also doesn't seem to find it odd that the guy can't even remove the armor himself without getting another person to unlock it with a key. Keep in mind that, for the entire duration of this stupid, stupid conversation, Yawaragi could have very easily just run away from all those birds and hid in a cave or something, but no, she casually takes the armor from the weasel, and wouldn't you know it, the darned thing is cursed to eventually crush its wearer to death unless they pay an exorbitant fee to the smithy rats for another key.

This is, to put it mildly, a very silly chain of events that do not paint Yawaragi in the smartest light, but we just have to roll with it, because that set of Iron-Rat Armor is precisely why Moroha has found herself sold into indentured servitude for the last three years. You see, Yawaragi decided that Moroha needed to complete the “crucible of Kodoku”, which has the eleven-year-old fighting a horde of demons in a spooky cave by herself to…get stronger, and master fighting without relying on Beniyasha, somehow? Yawaragi claims that Moroha needs to absorb the powers of the strongest demon in the cave, but she definitely did not do that, and we've never seen any of these so-called disastrous consequences of the Beniyasha transformation so far, which makes the entire venture basically pointless for our little heroine. For Yawaragi's part, the whole thing seems to have been an excuse to do some gambling with Jyubei, because she previously lost a bunch of ryou in the demon gambling house, which one apparently has to travel through in order to even get to the Crucible of Kodoku; also she needs, like, thirteen Ryou in order to buy a key for the armor that is going to eventually kill her. All of this leads to Jyubei offering to buy Moroha as his own little bounty-hunting slave, which Yawaragi accepts instantaneously, and there you have it: The ridiculous, contrived, and ultimately meaningless explanation for why Moroha has been trying to buy her way out of debt for three years.

Then, the second flashback, which is actually the most recent chronologically, shows us how it took Yawaragi three whole years to get to that damned hidden village of rats, only to discover that Konton arrived just beforehand and killed all of them. Whoopsie! We even get a nice shot of a dead rat mother cradling the corpse of her rat child – a weirdly dark moment that Yashahime certainly hasn't earned or anything – just to remind you that these Four Perils are super evil and powerful (despite the fact that they keep getting their asses kicked by a trio of teenagers who can barely be bothered to acknowledge their existence). Konton makes a deal with Yawaragi that he'll hand over the key if she kills Moroha and the others, and she accepts. “But!” Yashahime then asks, “Is she really going to betray her adopted daughter figure? Or is Yawaragi preparing Moroha for the final and most important lesson of her training?”

The answer is clearly supposed to be that second one, but Yashahime is just so goddamn bad at even the simplest character writing that the point doesn't land. Throughout all of these flashbacks, Moroha and Yawaragi have been dueling one-on-one, with Towa and Setsuna being told to sit uselessly on the sidelines, and Yawaragi keeps insisting that Moroha use her “creative imagination” to beat her, instead of relying on the rouge. This kind of falls flat when Moroha's victory just comes from her busting out a new special move, the Crimson Dragon Wave, which is neither a creative or imaginative resolution to the fight. Every Yashahime fight boils down to some combination of the girls' different special attacks, so why is this any different?

Way late in the episode, Konton suddenly teleports into the fight to gloat at Yawaragi. Nobody else really notices or acknowledges Konton's arrival, though you'd think this is the point where Towa and Setsuna would get off their butts and do something, because it isn't like Moroha's honor would be besmirched by kicking Konton's ass again. The show even forgets to include Konton in the next couple of shots of Yawaragi reacting to Moroha's attacks, even though it is absolutely critical that he be standing right behind her, because when Moroha unleashes the Crimson Dragon Wave, she whips behind Konton to hold him down in an act of self-sacrifice.

Here's the kicker, though: The guy can teleport. Yawaragi just saw him do this, and not thirty seconds earlier! So it shouldn't be surprising to anybody when Konton uses his Rainbow Pearl powers to teleport out of Yawaragi's arms and escapes anyways while the other girls throw some useless attacks at him. So, to recap: The audience learns that Yawaragi created the whole issue of Moroha's Beniyasha transformation in the first place, and she then spent years fruitlessly attempting to undo the problem, including purchasing a deadly set of cursed armor from a random weasel that was traipsing about the forest one day. All of this led to Moroha being sold to Jyubei, which was ultimately pointless because Yawaragi just ended up being coerced into attacking Moroha by Konton, and the one thing that might have made this entire cavalcade of terminally stupid decisions worthwhile – killing Konton – ended up being foiled by random Rainbow Pearl Powers. In other words, absolutely nothing of importance was learned, the girls are not one step closer to any of their goals, and Moroha inadvertently murdered Yawaragi for no reason. It is positively stunning when Yawaragi dies, and the show has the gall to play the moment off like some huge, emotional payoff…except Moroha is more or less fine by the time the credits roll.

Good Lord, this show is continuing to outdo itself in all of the worst ways. I won't damn it with the non-score of Episode 14, because “Double-Edged Moroha” at least has some halfway-decent looking action to try and distract you from how bad everything else is. I did, however, spend far too much time teaching myself how to use image-editing software so I could slap together this dumb meme that perfectly sums up my feelings about Yashahime at the moment. That said, it was probably more time and effort than anybody working on the show spent going over its sorry excuse of a script.

#anti yashahime #anti hanyo no yashahime #anti towa #inuyasha

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ladyandtheghost · 5 years

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How “The Dany-Show” ruined GoT at the core: 3-point system

1. Sansa vs. Cersei:

How is it possible that we had a million reunions - many of them involving secondary characters for fluff and fan service with zero impact on the plot - but these two women who had so much drama, so much unresolved business, never saw each other again? This is where you would have found the good story to tell and a major plot strand to resolve: the conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters. This is what started it all, this is where it should have ended. This is the story they should have focused on.

So why didn’t they?

Because Game of Thrones was already dead and gone and the series had become The Dany-Show and nothing but The Dany-Show.

Every character, every story arc, everything had to be directed towards Dragon Barbie and her drama. So of course there was no time or space for anything that was not related to the The Dany-Show. Basically a black hole that sucked all the great storylines and characters into its dark void.

Massive loose plot strands like the Stark-Lannister showdown were left to rot, because it was far more important to show off that CGI budget for gratuitous dragon shots and inane conversations between secondary character including sex jokes on the main.

There was literally more screen time allotted to the dragons than to Cersei...

After four seasons of Sansa and Cersei constantly referring to each other and the day they would meet again (willingly or not), it’s scandalous that they shoved so many characters back together for pointless reunions that were more or less blatant fan service (Bronn and the Lannister boys, really?!) but the big conflict, the personal drama that was playing out between Sansa and Cersei - that had actually taken on political dimensions now - did not even get a single scene?

Wrong choice.

I mean can you even imagine how Lena and Sophie would have acted the shit out of their reunion, because I can and it makes me furious that we were robbed of it. When two characters have so much unfinished business, so much foreshadowing and so much history that still isn’t resolved, the least you can expect is to give them at least a half-assed resolution - but we did not even get that, because it had nothing to do with The Dany-Show. Because all the characters have to only think about Dany and relate to Dany and if there is to be a conflict between female characters, it has to involve Dany and no one else.

Poor Lena deserved better than to be reduced to playing a two-dimensional shadow of Cersei Lannister who was little more than a prompt giver to The Euron Greyjoy Side-Show (because sex jokes!)

Also Bonus fuck-up: the prophecy of the YMBQ? Cersei died in the arms of Jaime, if anything Dany’s attack had given her back the one person/thing she cares about. So how exactly did Dany rob her of “all you hold dear” when Dany’s attack caused Jaime to literally drop Brienne like a hot potato, declare his undying love for Cersei and run back into her arms for his final moment?

Before that, Sansa had already “taken” Jaime into her services together with Brienne. He’d actually switched sides to serve “another queen” (just not Dany) and at least this prophecy made sense for two seconds but of course the YMBQ had to be Dany because it’s The Dany Show, whether it makes sense or not...

They just didn’t care anymore, did they?

2. Little...who?:

So we have half a dozen characters rolling up to Winterfell who knew Littlefinger and his dirty business, and Arya, Sansa and Bran are about to go:

Only for some reason: NO ONE asks.

There is not a single reference to the fact that the Stark kids found out that Littlefinger is the mastermind behind 90% of everything that has happened since S1 and that he was executed for this. It’s like it never happened and he never existed and neither did all the important plot points before S8.

Did Jon ever find out that Littlefinger betrayed Ned and conspired with the Lannisters to bring down the Starks?

Did Tyrion ever find out that Littlefinger framed him at the Purple Wedding?

Did Varys ever find out that his nemesis was outsmarted and defeated by three teenagers?

Nope. Nope. And nope.

Ain’t we all?

A character who’s been hailed as MVP by a huge part of the fandom because he knew how to network and play the game™ that is advertised in the title like no other, isn’t even mentioned again. One of the most popular theories re: S8 was (ridiculous as I found it myself) “Littlefinger isn’t dead” because many people felt he was still important to the story and there was also a lot of unfinished business with other characters he was connected to...Jon, Varys, Tyrion, Cersei, Sansa...

Instead, Littlefinger himself, his death and every plot point he was ever involved in was simply erased - because Littlefinger and his relation to these characters had nothing to do with, i.e. did not contribute to...you guessed it...The Dany-Show and therefore POUF, he never existed...

3. R+L = who gives a f***

But you know, these are minor grievances compared to the fact that Jon’s character was not only dumbled down and turned into a complicit in genocide...

Jon’s parentage story arc - you know, THE big revelation and PLOT TWIST - was turned into a side note, a five-minute mini drama that was more about how this will affect poor little Dany and her feelings.

They gave us scenes of Dany waxing on about how Jon’s being the one true king stresses her out because she wants the throne and what she expects him to do about it - but they ROBBED us of the moment Jon tells the Stark siblings that he is not truly their brother, but their cousin.

Because who cares about how Jon feels about this and his “siblings” coming to terms with the fact that:

their father Ned Stark had kept Jon a secret from everyone

that he had not fathered a bastard and betrayed their mother

but saved the one true heir, at cost of his honour,

they lived with the Targaryen crown prince and raised him under everyone’s nose...

No, no, the important thing is how Dany feels about it all and how it affects her.

After the huge build-up, the theories, the overt foreshadowing, even more infuriating - after throwing poor Elia and her children under the bus and making Jon legitimate...

After literally EVERYTHING in this series leading up to the moment when everyone would know who Jon Snow truly is...it had no effect on the story whatsoever, besides contributing to Dany finally revealing the full extent of her insanity (which was only a matter of time anyways)

Heir to the Iron Throne? Targaryen Prince? Rhaegar’s son? PTWP?

The point is: Drama for poor little Dany because her nephew doesn’t want to fuck her anymore is the actual heir.

You can’t even say that it led to her advisors finding out and betraying her because that is something they should have done ages ago, at the latest when she burned the Tarlys. It gave them a legitimate alternative option, yes, but it was not the first time they thought she needs to go...

At least R+L=J served one good purpose: it rubbed Dany’s nose in it that she is not special at all. She is NOT the last Targ, nor the “princess that was promised” - and it was never her destiny to rule, she was only ever the “aunt” of the prince.

Sadly, this is again ALL about Dany and her feelings and how everyone else reacts to her in light of the news that Jon is Aegon.

So R+L=J is not even about Jon in the end, it’s just another element of The Dany-Show. And once Dany is gone, it’s like R+L=J also got erased (just like Littlefinger and the Stark-Lannister-conflict)

...because let’s just send the Head of House Targaryen and last of his line beyond the wall again just because the murderous army of the mad tyrant, whom he heroically freed us from, demands it...and of course we have to wrap up the last five minutes of this shitty episode.

Conclusion:

D&D just REALLY didn’t care anymore once The Dany-Show was over and it’s painfully obvious to see. The good news is that all of these plot points that got erased/dumbled down/ignored^^ are things that are important to GRRM, which gives me hope for the last books at least...

#game of thrones #sansa stark #jon snow #anti-daenerys #anti-dany stans #anti-d&d #cersei lannister

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disasterbialert · 4 years

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So, I finished The Untamed and ok ok I think I have collected most of my thoughts about it. (I’m late, so I guess these thoughts don’t really matter, but I wanted to put them somewhere and here seemed like the place.) SO here’s a post absolutely NO ONE WANTS and imma do it anyway cool cool.

Firstly: love. This entire show is about love. Obviously other things too ok I’m simplifying for the sake of my point. But importantly it is about love. The love for our families, found, made and blood. The love of soulmates, romantic and platonic. The love of humanity, of the people known and unknown, love for them purely because they are human and are therefore deserving of love. The love inherent in honour and duty, the sacrifices made for that love. Loving someone—bravely, in the face of every adversity, despite being told it’s wrong. Learning to be true to that love, learning to love faithfully, learning to love, to show love, to be loved.

Bless the tireless translators. Y’all. The work you do is often thankless but y’all are so valued. Thank you.

The music. I actually don’t have the words for this, I can only thank the composers and musicians for the gifts they have blessed us with. My heart my heart my heart.

The costumes, set, props and cinematography are all so exquisite. I’m not an expert in any of these fields but I can see the care and detail paid to each facet of this show. What an absolute visual joy. Stunning.

And now, the characters.

I’ll start with the ladies. They deserved so much more. We deserved to have more than just one by the end, but I understand this wasn’t their story (still hurts tho).

Jiang Yanli. Proof that kindness is powerful. Her heart holds entire worlds. She is not weak (don’t even try me I swear to the gods). She holds her family together. She takes care of her siblings. She feeds their bodies and their souls. WWX is right—JZX does not deserve her but that’s because nobody does. But Jiang Yanli deserves to be happy, therefore her marriage to the Flower Peacock is valid purely bc it makes her happy. She stands up for what’s right, she will not compromise her morals, she will defend her family to her last breath (and so she does💔). She does not harden herself, she does not have to. Her patience and kindness, her softness, her gentleness—things that are seen as weaknesses or inferiorities—are what put her above all around her. She is gracious, she is strong, she is loving, she is determined, she is brave. She deserved better.

Wen Qing. A queen. A powerhouse. The most brilliant mind. A lightning-quick and sharp-bladed tongue. She loves Wen Ning so much and her love is powerful, just as Jiang Yanli’s. Her dedication and devotion to her people, her true family, not just a name, is incredible, inspiring. Why? Because she’s not perfect. So she learns. She grows. She becomes herself. When she’s at the Burial Mounds, she essentially adopts WWX as another younger brother, caring for him because she knows he won’t care for himself, and she does so out of love and respect. But she never replaces Jiang Yanli. She is keenly aware of all she perceives WWX loses because he aids them. Hence the pivotal, crucial: I’m sorry and thank you. She walks to what she knows is her own death with her head held high and her hand in her brother’s, offering love and support and what protection she can to the end. She does not flinch. She does not bow. She fights with all of her and surrenders with grace not reflected by those she surrenders to. Honestly I could write an entire thesis on Wen Qing but I’ll cry too hard so I’ll just leave it here that she deserved better, she deserved to live, she deserved to be free.

Mian Mian. Mian motherfucking Mian. Here is a woman who stares injustice full in the face and says no fucking way, says over my dead body, says you and what army old man. Strips the robes of the hypocritical off her own damn body, throws them at the feet of a false god and walks out, back straight, head held high. She makes her own way in the world, carves out her own life, finds love and happiness and lives. She does not compromise. She does not bow. She fights and she wins and she is glorious. And she lives she lives she lives.

Yu ZiYuan. I may be in the minority here but that’s ok. No I don’t approve of her abuse, just gonna nip that one in the bud right out of the gate. Was she fair? No. Was she cruel? Yes. Was she an incredible fighter who fought for her family, for her home? Who showed raw courage and furious strength in the face of insurmountable odds? Who loved a man with her whole bitter heart, loved her children with that same fractured heart? Was clearly the subject of spiteful rumour and vicious gossip and did not let it defeat her? Refused to bow to anyone? I do not like her, do not like how her bitterness made her cruel. But seeing her wield her blade, take wound after wound, witness the death of her love, then take her own blade and rob the monsters invading her home of the satisfaction of taking her life, took her own life with her own hands because that’s how she did everything in her life so why the fuck wouldn’t she do it in death too, who crawled her way to the man she loved, laced their fingers together so he wouldn’t die alone, so they could both die held? How can I not respect her.

Ok. The lads.

Jiang Cheng is a man-child idiot with the emotional expression range of a loquat, an inferiority complex the size of the moon and self-worth issues going back farther than the Big Bang, and I love him, ok? He loves so hard and so much and it is heartwrenching that he cannot communicate that. Some of his best moments are actually in the background, which is both funny and terribly sad. His rage is at times ridiculous, at times frustrating, at times all he has left, his joy is bright but brief, his grief is devastating. Watching JY greet WWX after the 3 months in the Burial Mounds. The entire temple scene. Crying on his knees. We were to be the Heroes of Yunmeng. Take care. Fuck me right in my feelings ok.

Wen Ning is so fucking precious and I would die for him for all eternity. What an absolute gift his character is. I honestly can’t write much more about him because I’ll cry. But special mentions to his interactions with A-Yuan/Lan SiZhui and the incredible scene where he reveals to Jiang Cheng the truth about his/WWX’s golden core. Unparalleled emotional intensity. The equal parts tenderness and fierceness of his love is breathtaking.

And the loves.

Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen. There is a lot of tragedy in The Untamed. There is great sadness in the main plot line and even in the small side plots. The Ballad of Song Lan and Xian Xingchen (as it’s come to be known in my head) is for me the most devastating and poignant. They just wanted to do good, to wander the world together and do their part to make it a better and safer place. It’s noble, yes, but it’s also so human, so close to home. Because we all want that, to know that we can do some good before we leave this world. They do not want to be involved in the petty squabbles, the undignified and cruel vying for power and dominance. They simply want to live and be. The fact that both of their deaths are pointless, could have been avoided, are the faults of poor timing and terrible terrible luck and cruel turns fate is almost what makes it sadder. Xue Yang screams that XXC is not better than him, that his righteousness and the righteous way he has attempted to live his life is all for naught. And then he is immediately proven wrong—XXC’s heartbreak means he can’t become XY’s puppet. SL is free from XY’s control and avenges himself and XXC. Which is also somehow just as devastating. That XXC and SL were so close, so very close to being together, to living, to making it, but didn’t. Nothing grand or heroic about their deaths—just the unknown and unpredictable nature of life. There is no rhyme or reason, no big important plan, no fate or destiny. They both simply die as we all one day will. And it is their potential cut short, the love and life they could’ve had, that hurts the most. They are not Lan Zhan and Wei Ying: they do not get their second chance, their reunion, their happily ever after. The look shared between SL and LWJ—the shared grief, the recognition, the understanding—and LWJ’s brief and unelaborated-on comment to WWX ‘how fortunate’ speaks volumes. How fortunate you came back/I found you/that’s not us when it could’ve been. That final shot of SL walking away and the brief out-of-focus moment of XXC walking beside him—particularly when it’s echoed with the parallel of WWX and LWJ—chokes me every time.

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Soulmates in every sense of the word. Their song. Their bunnies. Their child. The years they were robbed of. The yearning. The pining. The loyalty. The growth. The love the love the love. The loss the loss the loss. Every Lan Zhan. Every Wei Ying. Every glance. Every soft breath. Every gentle touch. The tenderness. The intimacy. The quiet acceptance. Their love story is one of the ages and, on a personal note as a queer person, what a gift it is to see a queer love story like this. (even when censored as a bromance, which like I mean, they tried but the glances alone are +9000 gay pining but whatever and yes I am making a joke because I’m crying don’t look at me)

TL;DR: I am so thankful The Untamed/CQL/MDZS and all of its adaptations (the source material included obvs) exists. I am so thankful to the writers, translators, casts, crews, creators. I am thankful for the community of fans that exist that love it as I do, who share that love and passion—whether through passionate discussion, rich fanfic or mind-blowing fanart. I am thankful I live in a time where content like this exists and can be shared. I learned a whole lot and I’m so grateful there aren’t even words. Love y’all. I’m gonna go be soft now. 💙

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makeupbychio · 4 years

Text

goodnight n go // C.H

pairing : Calum Hood x Reader.

summary : you are a famous pop singer and one normal night in your life Calum literally came to change everything.

words : 8.5k

warnings : fluff, angst and swearing.

a/n : hi babies, so I tried to do this gender neutral because I’m trying to write things for everyone without specifying gender, sexuality, physical appearance, etc. Feedback is more than welcome. Credits to the owner of the photo, and the Instagram posts.

italics means song lyrics.

bold means posts on social media.

inspired by : that one second laugh Ariana Grande does in ‘everytime’ studio version and ‘goodnight n go’ live version. And these videos (links down below in the blurb)

You are a pop star, already part of the pop culture, on tons of playlists made by platforms. So your life is always on the public eye even when you don’t post in your social media the paparazzis and social accounts always doing that for you. It wasn’t like that at the beginning, the world barely knew your name, your shows were for 50 in the room, then 100, then 1000, now a whole arena and with two dates in some cities. You have learned how to deal with the dizzy things of being famous thanks to your fans, family, friends and your own power so at the end of the day you would not change leaving your heart on stage singing and dancing every night at all even when you know that it is crazy, yeah, it is crazy there outside. How people that you don’t know tells you how you changed their lives with your music, how you saved them, tattoos in their bodies inspired by your lyrics and style.

It is been crazier lately. You write your songs inspired by your own experiences or your loved ones experiences. You just finished a tour and after a good break for a whole season you are back writing and planning a new album. You were writing a song based on a reckless love but the song couldn’t make it to the previous album because you never finish it and you didn’t want it as an interlude. But you restart it because life slapped you in the face because 3 months ago you broke up with your partner. You are laying on bed looking at some pictures of you two together walking on the streets taken by paps. The light of the screen lighting your face. And god, how you didn’t realize tons of things?, in every picture you are looking at your ex like a fool completely in love but people could not say the same coming from the other person. You were in love, your ex really loved you at first but the last months of the relationship barely paid attention to you. That is when you remembered one of your fights.

“I waited for you for almost two hours! You could at least answered my messages or you could call me! So I would leave the restaurant and don’t waste my time on you” you said loudly pointing at its face when you came back home and acting like nothing happened. You were furious.

“I know, sorry I’m tired I spend the whole day with my friend I didn’t see him in a while” your ex sighed laying on your bed. “Don’t wanna argue”.

“I don’t care about your friend! You could tell him to hang out another day. It was a special day for us you asshole” you said giving an angry look and leaving the room.

It was supposed to be a special day that day. You were back from your South America leg of the tour and you received the notice of awards nominations so you decided to celebrate by having dinner and then go to the movies together. But your ex didn’t show up, and it wasn’t the first time. You just asked for simple things like going to the beach or just receive love. So even you were angry, you came back to their arms every time.

You thought that then a good fuck or a pretty face would fixed everything, but no. Your naive head at that moment thought that things were going to change, or that your lover was the love of your life.

Now you are looking at the last picture of you two that was seen together walking out a store and even bugs can notice how disillusioned your expression and body language are in that photo. You are hanging by their arms but looking at the floor with your head down. The other person also was trying to hide it with a cap and focused on the road.

‘Oh God’ you sigh at the picture knowing how ridiculous you looked. You lock your phone and throw it to your side of the huge bed now empty the other side. You are sitting with your legs crossed in your bed looking outside your window. It is late in the night so the city lights are your view and it reminds you that night when you called your best friend to tell her about you were thinking to end your relationship. She is always been supportive with you and every time you were going to make your decision you postpone it till finally it happened. You remembered that you cried a lot that night you saw them leaving your apartment and hours later you were still crying listening to sad music with your best friend looking at the roof.

Now you decide to restart the song you left half done. Your dog joined you in bed, you went for a cup of hot chocolate and you start writing it.

The next day early in the morning you are in your way to the studio once you are ready with your makeup trying to hide your tiredness that you wrote till 3 am and put your studio outfit which consists on a big hoodie so big that the sleeves are always covering your hands but comfiness is first.

Your band and crew arrived and you have your coffee. Even when it is a sad song coming from your experience you want to put energy in this one like one of those nights you fought, how your blood was running in your veins and how deeply you knew that your relation was pointless but you were going to fall every time. The energy being aware of that but at the same time an energy by saying I’m done, I get over you but I know that I was a fool for you but not anymore.

You explain that to everyone when all of you are thinking about the melody and beats. Most of the people in the room insist and show you a sad melody and you are starting to get frustrated because they are not listening to you and your idea you are looking for.

You decided to move on on another two songs that you have complete. During breaks to eat something, drink water, go to the next studio and say hi to people that you know and fooling around with your own crew now it is dark outside and you are thinking to call it a wrap for today but the urge to at least figure it out the musicality of the song you wrote last night it is bigger.

But all of you are tired and ran out of ideas and your manager enters the soundproof box to tell you that the room is reserved for another artist from midnight till dawn. So you have 3 hours left to record this song or try again another day.

When you are talking to your favorite producer, who also is your friend, a tall man enters the room with headphones and the music too loud for not noticing the room full of people. When he saw the big group of people he freezes and apologies already leaving when you stop him recognizing him.

“Calum?” you said getting up from your seat in front of all the buttons of the huge synthesizer.

“Y/N?” he asks checking if this is real.

You nod at him and hug him because it is been a while, almost 2 years without seeing him. He is so happy to see you, the last time you were together was in an awards after party and you know him since 4 years ago when you met him and his band on an awards show that you presented his band and their performance and you saw it from the corners of the stage and waited to congratulated them because you are respectful with others musicians work, they asked for a picture and after that you have been friends but your busy life didn’t let you hang out with them but always exchanging likes, comments or messages on the dms on social media.

“Omg how are you?” he asks you while he hugs you with his strong arms the height difference is notorious so he lays his right cheek on top of your head. He knows about your love situation, but to be honest he was not sad about that. Not at all. But he is not going to take advantage of that.

“Fine and you? Omg I miss you so much, what are you doing here alone?” you say to him confused not seeing all the 5sos boys.

“We are recording our new album and the guys should be here” he says checking the hour on his watch and then quickly his phone if there is a message.

“Finally new 5sos music!” you say and laugh.

“Yeah, we don’t have the ability like you to drop music every year.” he teases you.

“Hey!” you punch him softly on his ribs. “First things first, you can do that too if you want to drop music and second, actually right now I’m struggling with a song” you explain to him all of your situation when his phone rings. Ashton is on the other side of the line.

“Cal, we said at midnight!” Ashton said.

“Oh crap, I don’t know why I understood it was at 9 pm...K’...Bye, see ya’” Calum answers to his friend before hanging out the call.

He explains to you the situation even when you listened to what Ashton said. Calum tells you that it was nice to see you but he should be back at midnight but you stop him letting him know if he wants he can stay.

“Are you sure?” he asks knowing that maybe that could bother your crew.

“Of course Cal!” you say. And even when his house it is like 20 minutes away by driving he could come back when it is his band’s turn to use the studio but to be honest again he would really love to hang out a while with you. He always finds you attractive and your voice is one of the most angelical for him.

After he greeted the rest of the group he sits close to you listening your conversation with your producer.

“What if you add little adlibs and drums?” Calum suggests but he regrets if the producer would get angry. “Sorry man, I know it is your work and I am just a guest and-”

“It is okay! Actually that is a good idea dude” your producer say asking Calum to show him what he said.

Calum and you enters the box and he sits to play the drums.

“Ashton is teaching me a little bit now that we are roommates” he jokes about it while taking the drumsticks.

“I saw that joke you did to Ashton! It was hilarious and his response” you point at him.

So you and Calum organized that he would play something in the drums first and then you start singing or reading the lyrics to catch the rhythm. He shows you a freestyle moment with the drums since he’s been doing that in his house to practice. The producer in the other side of the glass tells you from the speaker that there is a beat that maybe could fit. So once back again listening to beats ideas ordering to make that beat faster or slower, louder or pronounced then your band is working with the guitar, bass, keyboard and your drummer continues what Calum started and last but not least you are thinking where to sing it with high notes that it is your biggest characteristic.

All the people in the room are tired, your manager and part of your crew left early because they have meetings for some upcoming festivals to schedule. You let your band know that is the last effort of this week then you’ll be back again the next one rehearsing for an awards performance.

Calum now is in the other side of the glass next to the producer watching and listening all of this process of making this record. He is having fun and he realizes he could hear to your voice all night. It takes a lot of takes, to the final result of a song and Calum knows that perfectly.

You want to achieve the highest note of the song in the last chorus of the song in the last line. You should have record that first because it is getting hard for you to reach with a tired vocal cords after doing the rest of the song and the ad libs. You sigh frustrated at another failure of that last chorus.

“Y/N, should we call it a wrap for today?” your producer asks you softly. To be honest, you don’t want it after all of the work behind to finally get this song built.

“Excuse me” Calum says confident to the producer to take control of the speaker. “Y/N, listen to me, this is the last effort I know that ya’ can do this… You got this” he says looking at you directly in the eye. You nod and take a deep breath to try again and ‘he was right’ you thought to yourself when you freaking nailed it not just one high note, you reached it also the lines of the outro of the song.

Once you open your eyes when you keep singing with not that much power the last line. You laugh hiding your smile with the sleeve of your hoodie because the first thing you see is Calum stunned with his arms crossed on his chest and one hand full of rings lifted to cover his mouth. You start clapping to your band and say through your microphone ‘thank you’ to the rest of the people.

“Girl, you fuckin’ blew my mind” he says so excited mimicking what he said once you left the recording side of the room.

Minutes later everyone is saying goodbye to you and once again you thanked everyone for their job and energy as always and telling your producer to call you to edit the song other day.

Now you are alone with Calum while you start packing your things. “Magic” you say looking at the clock with 15 minutes in your favor.

You use that time catching up on general things, like music, family, next awards, and a little bit of gossiping and of course asking about the rest of the boys.

“So happy for you guys, I can see that you are happy with this new era” you say after listening to Calum talking so passionate about what he and his band are doing. “I want to wait for the guys because I miss them. Do you think Michael is still in love with me?” you joke about it in a friendly way since Michael told you you were his crush, so he always reacts so excited and weird with you.

“No, he can’t react like he used to”. Calum laughs and you understood because you congratulated Michael on his engagement.

Minutes later, the boys and the rest of the crew arrived making noise with a lot of energy as always ready for a recording night but at the end they are always laying on the floor waiting for the team to call it a wrap.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Luke says running to hug you by lifting you because he is so tall and he missed you so much. You laugh and hold him tight. You say hi to the rest of the boys and you look at Calum next to you when you both noticed Michael is trying to act serious and cool around you when later he is going to ask Calum "Did Y/N said something about me?".

After a couple of minutes talking to the boys catching up about life, their crew called them to start the session so you have to say goodbye.

"Thanks again Cal, you saved my life today" you say goodbye to him with a kiss on the cheek and then the same with the rest. "K' guys bye, hope you have a good night".

You are stepping into your car when Calum calls you running behind you. "Y/N! before you leave, I lost all of my contacts when Ashton threw my phone into a pool…" you laugh at how they always been like that. "So if you can give me your number again if one day you want to hang out with me- with us".

You both exchange numbers and say goodbye.

Your producer laughs hearing that take where you stop singing and take a second to laugh at Calum’s face. “You want to put the laugh in the song too?”

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8EMIEPCF5y/

You don’t know if it was a joke or a serious question. You think for a minute at how frustrated you were that night with your team trying to build this song and thankfully Calum was there to help and give his opinion, also that laugh confirms how this song is not sad at all even when people were saying to you that it should be because of your breakup.

“Yeah” you answer and think about that little good time hanging out with Calum. You record a short video of that laugh that is going to be in the song, letting know your fans that you are in the studio pointing with your phone at the computer.

Your stories on Instagram are always like a puzzle to your fans, like what does this means? what is this? when? where? new song? album? tour? collab? video?. Most of the times you add emojis, letters, or numbers that are meaningful to decipher the message and also to tease.

“Hello?... Calum? Can you hear me?” you say through the phone.

“Y/N? Hi! Yes, I can…” he answers leaving the room. “Sorry, I was so into playing my bass, we are writing a new song”.

“Oh sorry, if you are busy I can call you later-” you say softly and gentle.

“No no no. Ehmm, how are you? Tell me” he say surprised that you actually call him. He is giving you all of his attention listening to you.

“I’m fine and you? I’m calling you because we finished the song and I would like to know if you want to appear in the track info, cause’ ya’ know… you helped with the drums and other stuff” you wait for his answer, you are nervous of his response. Why? You have done this all the time with other collabs, ‘maybe because he is so intimidating but at the same time the cutest’ you think to yourself.

In the other side of the call, he is surprised and also he finds this so cute from you because he thinks that he barely contributed. “Ehhm, yes- I mean if you are okay with this I’m okay too”.

@MTV: Biggest return of Y/N!, who just announced a new single and a new collaboration TONIGHT!, a new album, and a performance for the VMAS. *internal screams*.

@MTV: Don’t forget to watch the VMAS this Sunday at 8 pm, amazing performances by Y/N, 5 Seconds Of Summer, Halsey, Rosalía, Bad Bunny, Doja Cat, Cashmere Cat and Missy Elliott winner of the Vanguard Award and more! with surprises of course, as always.

@y/n.updates: Genius.com has revealed the lyrics of the new singles! “everytime” and “quit”, the last one is from the dj Cashmere Cat’s album. We are so excited for our baby's return.

@bbcradio1: A friendship you didn’t know you needed until now… Calum Hood from 5sos appears in the track info of Y/N’s new single. Is Y/N going to appear in the upcoming 5sos album too? let’s pray to the universe.

“Of course last but not least to arrive the red carpet is the royalty in person, Y/N” the interviewer comments watching you posing to all of the cameras. “I am loving this moment. Y/N is here to slay the red carpet and taking pictures with every artist throwing kisses to friends like to 5sos, ugh lucky boys, now saying hi to Normani, we love that”.

“Yeah, I’m smelling big succes coming this year and Y/N totally deserves it” the other interviewer says. “Oh. My. Goddess… Can we take a moment to appreciate this outfit?!”. You arrive and say hi to everyone. After a couple of questions and compliments you are walking with your team to go backstage to change for your performance.

Once the Teen Wolf cast introduced your performance, everything went dark and silence and you appear in a large lavender satin dress, perfect to build up your figure and Cashmere Cat appears on a platform with his dj set and lights pointing at you and him.

“And you say that I'm the devil you know

And I don't disagree, no, I don't see the harm

They say, "You crazy, just leave him, he'll suffocate you"

But I wanna be in your arms

They say, "No, don't pick up the phone, let him think there's nobody home"

But I'm under your spell

'Cause when you call, my heart starts to roll

I always want more

It's my heaven, my hell…”

Then two contemporary dancers are next to you dancing at what the lyrics means to you when you recorded this with Cashmere Cat in the studio after your breakup. At the chorus a fake rain starts in the stage and you have your moment feeling amazing and feeling the beat that your dj friend was playing behind you. You participate too in the choreo while you sing the last part of the song. Singing to both dancers faces like if you are watching from outside when you decided to step out your relation. So each dancer goes to their own way representing the metaphor.

Then a new different beat went off for a little moment and you start singing a snippet of one of your new songs of your upcoming album hoping to make everyone clear how you are after your breakup because you still hear some comments about it.

“I got a bad idea, How 'bout we take a little bit of time away?

I got a bad idea

Forget about it, yeah, forget about him, yeah”.

The next thing you see is everyone standing up and clapping at you. You hug Cashmere Cat. “Thank you, please give it up for my friend Cashmere Cat!”

You stay not that much to the after party because tomorrow you have to get up early for a photoshoot.

You post videos behind the scenes and the photos of the photoshoot. You are in the front page and you did something original playing with makeup, hairstyles and clothes. Everyone is living for this new era.

“Ugh, are you going to do that call or should I do it for you?” Ashton interrupts Calum and his daydreaming watching your latest posts.

“What?” Calum answers confused wrinkling his nose and expressions.

“You heard me”. Ashton says letting know his friend that he is not stupid. “I noticed how you look at Y/N that night performing and then at the after party...And don’t excuse yourself because of the angelic voice because I know I was mesmerized too but you were on another level”.

Calum doesn’t add anything else and stands up to continue writing the new song but not without leaving a comment on one of your posts ‘gorg!’.

“Hello beautiful human, it is Y/N back in the studio!” Zach says through his microphone. Everyone clap and he greets you. Even the promo you have to do for your singles, albums and all that stuff you are so picky with the interviews you want to do because in the past you had a lot of uncomfortable ones with disrespectful questions and interviewers. It is not the case with Zach, you feel at home and he is your friend.

As always you talked about your new music, upcoming things, opinions about something, your personal life and you are so honest talking on Zach’s show because he always asks you about how are you doing because he knows that everyone struggles.

“So the whole tracklist it is on genius.com and I think that it is safe to say that I’m not the only one surprised with the collabs and people who helped you.” Zach says reading a paper checking the new revelation. “I would like to know details how it is to work with such talented artists and producers”.

You told him the details and including how Calum ended in your studio session that night.

“Thank God I recognized him because my bodyguard was ready to punch him” you make Zach laughs.

Calum saw your interview and after that he called you. He didn’t know what kind of confidence took him to invite you to hang out tomorrow.

That day you went with him and Ashton and Luke to the Star Wars theme park. The guys insisted that Calum must have gone alone that day but he was too nervous. Other day you and the guys went to bowling, Michael was losing all the fun because his new life as fiancé planning the wedding.

That’s how you got the chance to know more about them every single time you hang out. Paparazzis always were there and people talking about this cool friendship. But then Calum had the balls to ask you on a date. For your surprise he invited you to a The 1975 concert, then you invited him to a Post Malone concert, you went to the movies, then late nights stops at diners. And as the bond between you two was growing with so much love, affection, confidence, honesty and how safe you feel next to him you didn’t realize that you were holding his hand or arm so natural like it was a thing you two always do. That little thing was enough for people to start rumors. Calum likes you so much but he wanted to take things slow because of you and him after you told him everything about your ex and he did the same. His ex used him just for fame and to be in the public eye so with little details when you noticed he was doubting about his own self or anything else, you let him know that everything is okay.

One and a half month later, you are with him at your place in your home studio after you order vegan pizza for dinner that Calum was right that it is delicious. You were helping each other, mostly him with ideas of sets to perform Want You Back and Youngblood on tv shows. Then you showed him the final version of ‘everytime’ and he loves that you included the laugh in the song which reminds him of something.

“I want to show you something” Calum says searching something on his phone gallery.

“Found it” he says getting his chair closer to yours. It is a video that he secretly recorded of that day in the studio, when you finally hit the high notes of the song. In the video you can hear how he says ‘wow” multiple times and your producer is not surprised but still in awe. Then there is your laugh when you saw Calum’s face and when the song ends you can hear his ‘what the fu-” and the video ended.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8O76_nC3Q5/

“Why you didn’t show me this before?” you say with giggles at how incredible you have the two sides of that moment.

“First, don’t worry because I’m never going to show this to anyone I know that I should ask you before and-” he is explaining himself.

“Can I kiss you?” you interrupts looking at him noticing a sparkly surprise on his eyes.

He leans so fast to kiss you, you take your moment to taste his lips after all this time you can confirm what you think about his lips. You break the kiss needing air. “You didn’t answer my question”.

He laughs at your teasing while you bit your lip. “You’re right, I didn’t”. He holds your face within his hands and start kissing every part of your face while he says “Yes” in every little kiss.

Things got hot and heavy so you move the make out session to your room. Both of you don’t want that the other person feel pressure to do things but with you Calum forgot his “love is scam” thing. So he carries you and takes his time to make every moment, kiss, thrust and this night to last. He thinks that he is the only one that kinda feels strange at this amount with affection and intimacy but the truth is that you were feeling the same way, because with him you don’t feel a clingy or a needy person as you were in your last relationship. With Calum is different in a good way.

“So you didn’t come home last night” Ashton says to Calum when he arrived for lunch time, because he had breakfast twice today with you.

“Ew! I didn’t want to know that Cal” Ashton says while cutting vegetables for lunch. “Thank God you are together, it took you forever. To be honest, I thought Y/N was going to get bored of waiting”.

Another night at your place when Calum surprised you with a romantic dinner and also apologizing for the other night when at his place Ashton interrupts you two.

In the middle of the night you woke up with an idea stuck in your head, you took your underwear and Calum’s baggy shirt he was wearing and before you stood up you melted at the sight of your dog sleeping closely to Calum, who at first hated him but now they look like besties.

After an hour in your studio with this new idea, you had the lyrics and already recording with a beat which two of your best friends made once in a party just fooling. The studio is soundproof and in another level of your house so the music is not going to wake up Calum, but the coldness he felt next to him makes him wonder the reason that woke you up.

And when he found where you are and what are you doing he reminds to himself that in this exact moment he feels so much love for you.

“That sounds beautiful babe” he said getting closer to you to kiss your cheek.

You are editing all focused this song to send it to your producer to do the final touches. “I didn’t want to wake you up” you lift your head to look at him with a pout and noticing he is shirtless and he looks tired from what you did hours earlier. He asked you details about this song called ‘goodnight n go’, he listened to it and once again all of his feelings manifest in a studio. “I love you” he confessed when the song ends. The feeling is mutual and the idea of this song came up all based in your relation you have with him.

@Y/N: new album. valentine’s day. love y’all xoxo.

You posted with the cover of your new album.

“There is a lot of people downstairs” your manager said arriving the room, you were waiting for your manager for the first toast of the night. It is your album’s launch party and you want to celebrate with your team, your band and their loved ones. Your family, your friends, artists of the industry, and other famous people.

You made a speech about how grateful you are for everyone in the room for their patience, for the love and support for you and this new project. Before you start to get emotional, you said to everyone to have fun tonight and you thanked again.

You rented a whole club for the night. After eating, cut the cake and having a few glasses of champagne you are ready to take pictures in the photo booth with everyone.

Your close loved ones of course know about you and Cal, but the other half of the people in the room just know the rumors and the pictures from paparazzis and fans. When you were taking funny pictures with other musicians, it is iconic that in the photo is going to appear artist from different genres of music that are your friends. Calum really wants a picture with you and just you even when he loved the ones with the boys and your friends.

“I’m ready” Calum said to you when you are pointing at the printed photo because Luke’s gold eyeshadow looks freaking amazing.

“Ready for what?” you looked at him confused.

“Ready to announce the world that we are together” he said biting his lower lip waiting for your reaction. He told you a few weeks before that he was afraid and he didn’t know how to handle at that moment if you said you were together, so you told him that it is okay and understood him.

“Like now?! What you have in mind?” you asked him nervous because you both know what comes next with this kind of announcements.

Calum just took your hand and enter just with you inside the photo booth and when the countdown started he looks at you with a smirk and sparkly eyes. “This is my plan” and he kissed you on the lips at the same time the machine announced the picture was taken.

“We have two more! What do we do?” he asked you, but now that you are here you use right the last two pictures. One kissing him in the cheek and hugging him around his neck that Calum did that thing with his eyes and the biggest smile on his face because he is so happy and also the alcohol. And the last one looks a little bit blurry and funny.

You took the opportunity to take another three but this time, now that everyone is going to know about your relation, the pictures are sexier but not vulgar. Of course your photographer took film pictures during the night so you will have several memories of the night.

You and Calum posted the three first ones on your social media.

@Y/N: my love💖.

@calumhood: happiest man in the universe. february 14th is not bad at all anymore with you by my side💛.

That night before you arrived home with Calum, he told you about a new 5sos music video called Valentine that was going to be on Youtube in 30 minutes, he told you that he wrote almost the entire song and you can’t wait to hear and see him singing this song, especially his verse.

We know we're classic together like Egyptian gold

We love us

The success of your new album was immediately. And that means a lot of interviews, invitations to tv shows, radio stations, youtube channels, etc. Calum went and waited for you backstage to the ones that were in US. But the international ones he couldn’t come with you because their new album is going to release soon and new music videos by 5sos.

“I’m so happy to be back!” you said. Today is BBC radio 1 turn. They told you they were happy to have you in the radio.

After you sang a song from the new album, you have to do a cover. In the past you did ‘Them Changes’ by Thundercat and ‘After The Storm’ by Kali Uchis taking advantage of your voice and the high notes you can reach, it is the same this time.

“Hi, this is Get You by my friends Daniel Caesar and Kali Uchis” you said. The last part is your favorite.

This feels like summer

Boy you make me feel so alive

Just be my lover

Boy you'll lead me to paradise

Youngblood is out and the release party wasn’t bigger like yours but the fun was the same. You appeared on the Cocktail Chats they did when it was Valentine’s turn. Now after two months your relation went public, the euphoria coming from the people decreased.

@Y/N: something huge in two hours with a special guest.

You posted on your stories with a sneak peek.

@ctrlnow: Y/N’s world tour with Kehlani as special guest. Next week tickets on sale. Are you excited? because this is going to be 🔥. It is the first time Y/N is going to perform in all the continents in almost two years.

@5sos: US, Canada and Mexico get ready for this tour. Special guest our buddy Dominic Fike. Tickets on sale in 6 days.

After 4 months of rehearsals and planning visuals, outfits, makeup, sets, tracklist, etc. You are on the road with the first leg of the tour in US for the whole summer in arenas and festivals. You are synchronized with Calum so you have no problem to hang out together and enjoy to the fullest your days off.

Both of you don’t get tired of each other concerts. Watching Calum leaving his heart on stage singing and playing his bass, also looking so freaking handsome every single show. For him is the same watching your amazing show with your dancers and different outfits, he said it before and in the present day that he can listen to you singing the whole day and he envies you how charming you are with your fans and noticing every person in the huge arena.

You have a main stage, then a circular runway and a B stage. Calum is always in the first row in front of the B stage. The first show you were so nervous. The beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started and the crowd went crazy.

“It seems that you really like this one” you said teasing even more. You started dancing and walking next to where Calum is. Your dancers interact with the audience while you are reaching the high notes.

We'll have drinks and talk about things

And any excuse to stay awake with you

And you'd sleep here, I'd sleep there

But then the heating may be down again

(At my convenience)

We'd be good, we'd be great together

https://www.instagram.com/p/B577uVJnJ6f/

When you looked down, there is your boyfriend looking at you like nobody else did before. You laughed at his reaction because it was priceless and before you keep moving you blow him a kiss. So as the same his reaction was that first time in the studio with ‘everytime’ that made you laugh, now it is with the song that he inspired. He does that in every show he goes, every time you sing ‘goodnight n go’. It is now your amulet that he makes you laugh in the same part with his faces and reactions. But not everything is perfect.

The different time zones, the distance and the stress is clouding Calum’s mind. In two weeks you have barely spoken ten minutes. And new things keep coming to you like singing to fashion shows, summer festivals in other continents, hosting tv shows, etc. His friends told him that he will get used to and things will be okay within you two. But he misses you so much and he is doubting about himself again in this thing called love.

“I think it is the best Y/N” he said through his phone. He called you that night, he is so overwhelmed and tired. “I don’t want to be an obstacle, this is your career’s biggest time” he tries not to cry while he passed his hand through his hair all nervous.

“Calum please tell me you are not joking” he can hear your sobs in the other side of the line. You are in France and he is in Canada.

“Y/N just look at what time you are calling me! It is 4 am here where I am!” he said frustrated, it is not the first fight but it is the first time he yells at you that loud.

“Okay I’m sorry! It is late here too Calum in New Zealand- my point is that we will be okay Calum. After this I’m going to be home like you” you tried to calm him.

“And then what? Run to film a tv show for a whole week? Just seeing you at nights? We should take a break while we figured it out” he said and you are frozen trying to check if what he said is real.

“You are the only one who needs to figured it out, because I’m sure about us and… How could you even wonder and said that you are an obstacle?”. Now it is the opposite because the last thing you said was “Okay, if it is what you want. Go to sleep n’ goodnight”.

You don’t know how people could know. But rumors of your relationship are in every social media and it is just been a day. You want to throw your phone but you have to get ready for your show in Australia, what an ironic thing.

It is not the same hype when the beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started. When you are singing the bridge that you were used to laugh thanks to Calum’s reactions. Now your voice breaks and hide your face with your hand and the other one holding your microphone so the public keep singing because you can’t. Your dancers changed the choreo to get close to you and let you know that they are there for you but still you start singing again in the next chorus but with a shaky voice. With this people confirms the rumors.

@enews: Our favorite couple is not longer a thing. With this we don’t believe in love. Y/N and Calum Hood are taking a break. Days before the couple had some troubles in tour. Y/N broke in tears and Calum didn’t go to any interview. Link of the video of Y/N last show in the bio.

“I supposed that you already saw this” Luke said giving his phone to Calum to show a video someone posted on Instagram. It is from your last night show.

“Yeah, I saw it” he said without making eye contact with his friend. Calum doesn’t want to talk about it. He is trying to convince himself that what he did is the best. It breaks his heart watching the video that now it is everywhere and his bandmates noticed how irritated he is with everything.

For a whole week Calum barely sleep two hours at nights. He looked off in the shows. He cries during his part in ‘Ghost Of You’, he sings spiritless in ‘Valentine’ and he asked to take off ‘Babylon’ from the tracklist.

5sos have new dates in another continents after December holidays.

“You should talk to Y/N, the Asia leg is going to be over in ten days and after the holidays the South America leg starts” Michael gave his advice to Calum but once again he didn’t give any answer.

You took ‘goodnight n go’ and ‘everytime’ off from the tracklist and changed it for another song because you tried a couple of shows after but you couldn’t do it like it used to be singing that song. Your fans were sad because it is their favorite song but you don’t want to cry every single show.

You have been in touch with Calum but not much. Just good morning and good night messages and that you are safe in the city you two are in that moment.

“Hello Mexico City!” Luke said on stage. “Welcome to the Meet You There tour, thanks for having us tonight, let’s have some fun!”

The whole night Calum were late and off key with his voice and bass that multiple times Ashton tried to follow him with the drums. Calum is thinking and worried about you when he saw earlier that you cancelled your shows in Korea because you got a cold that you have to rest your voice. He just wants to talk to you.

When the show ended, Calum throws his bass hard against the floor without caring a thing. After that he went directly to bed, without taking a shower, or eat something. It is been like this for weeks and everyone knows that what he decided was so stupid, but with hope that he learns the lesson.

“Can you explain us what was that?” Ashton said taking off Calum’s hands his phone. “Dude this is getting out of control, and we gave you your space and everything but now you are going to admit that what you did was wrong and the only thing you want is your relationship back”.

“Go away” Calum said.

“No, Hood. You are barely sleeping, eating, focused, happy. This is how relationships work, and we know that it is crazy as fuck when you are famous”.

“Yeah man, it wasn’t easy for me and my girlfriend” Michael said. “And now we are going to get married...Look, if it is meant to be and if you really love Y/N, you should fix this”.

You are back in LA for holidays and tonight you have the last show of the year because the second date of LA you had to cancel it because an allergy you had so you reschedule the show.

You are in the car on your way to the arena when your manager told you to stop by the studio because the new visual that you asked for is ready. It is a recap of this year, so your fans are going to see a couple of unreleased videos and pictures of behind the scenes of this whole year including everything and every person in your life.

In the studio you saw the new visual and you noticed that they didn’t put Calum on it. You love him and even when you are on a break, you wanted him in the visual too.

“Hmm I can explain it” your crew member said when another video randomly start in the screen of the computer.

“A mini film by Andy Deluca” you read in the title. The video shows the different reactions of Calum in every ‘goodnight n go’ performance. not just the tour, it also shows the reactions from his house listening to the song, or watching you performing the song on a show. It is a funny video but at the same time so cute and emotional because his reactions are different in every take. Calum screamed “YAAAAS!” or “I LOVE YOU BABY!”, surprised faces, funny faces, lip-synching, etc. And when Andy pointed the camera at you and you hid your laugh with your hand or sleeve, depends on the outfit. Calum says directly to the camera “Y/N should stop doing that, I’m going to say it later because Y/N’s laugh and smile are gorgeous… Okay this is my favorite song, enjoy it”. And the video ends.

“Wow, this is freaking cool but how did you-?” you asked your team when Calum appears from nowhere that scares you.

“I send it to your manager” he said. “I asked Andy to do this video because as always since the start of our relation I wanted to keep these memories”. When you didn’t say anything, he continues. “Y/N I know that I fucked up everything and-” he is interrupted by your manager telling your team to leave you two alone. Once alone with Calum in the room he continues again. “I got scared, I had never had a real relationship, this connection and what I feel for you before...I’m sorry”.

After a couple of minutes talking and giving your point of view that he didn’t let you give months earlier, you said “I love you, but please talk to me because the solution is not running every time things get complicated” and you hug him. He tried to kiss you but you said that he has to win your heart again.

“Hello LA! Hope you enjoy this surprise, happy holidays” and the new visuals and videos start playing in the big screen and everyone is laughing, getting emotional, while you drink water backstage you can hear the “awww cute”. And last but not least Calum’s video is playing and you are ready for the next song. Everyone screamed and are happy for you to be with him again. So when in the video Calum says ‘Okay this is my favorite song, enjoy it’, the beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started.

Tell me why you gotta look at me that way

You know what it does to me

So baby, what you tryna say? Ayy

Lately, all I want is you on top of me

You know where your hands should be

So baby, won't you come show me? Mmm

“For this next song I would like to call Mister Calum Thomas Hood” you said looking at him. He didn’t know about this. You sat him in a chair and say on his ear “A little tease never hurt nobody babe”. Now talking to the audience, “Let’s go!” and the beat of ‘break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored’ went off. Calum is fighting and struggling when you are dancing in front and on top of him.

It’s been 3 years since Calum entered your room. He is so glad that he interrupted your studio session. And here he is now, watching you performing ‘goodnight n go’ like if it was the first time he heard you that night in your home studio, the feeling and the amount of love to you is the same and even bigger he would say, it just changes the place where you are singing this song. Now you don’t hide your laugh with your sleeve, and Calum always says how he feels and trusts in your relationship.

321 notes · View notes

theemptyquarto · 4 years

Text

Abandoned WIP

This is a melancholy little entry that I stopped working on back in 2015, apparently, since Mary and John’s daughter is an “Amelia” rather than a “Rosie,” and Mary’s real name is “Angela” not “Rosamund” During the period in which I was writing it they announced, filmed, and released the film “Mr. Holmes” which deals with some similar subjects but which I did NOT rip off. I ripped off a Mitchell and Webb sketch:)

Age, eventually, makes mockeries of all of us. When I was in my sixties and seventies, I discovered that I did in fact have a heart. And a pancreas. And many joints, none of which seemed to want to work together properly anymore. And several other failing body parts that required me to take a dozen pills every single day of my life.

None of this happened to Sherlock. He remained more or less exactly as he’d always been, just craggier. He kept his hair, and when it changed color it started in elegant wings over his temples then became a flattering overall silver. Meanwhile I discovered that even once I gave up on blonde, I would have to keep coloring my hair, since it was an unattractive yellowish grey when left to its own devices.

Despite my array of minor ailments, our life together was… good. We split our time between the Sussex downs, where his bees were, and London, where our grandchildren were. He took cases, but only the most interesting ones. I wrote my novels, but only every three years, instead of the annual volumes I’d churned out in my prime. Sherlock wrote a practical handbook on beekeeping and was furious that nobody wished to buy it.

It was a snowy winter afternoon in Baker Street, and he’d just come in from the cold. He was flushed and excited to tell me all about what he’d been up to since he’d been gone for a week: a commonplace-seeming garroting that had led to the discovery of an active human-sacrifice cult with multiple sites across Europe. I vaguely considered putting it into a story but decided it was so wildly implausible that even my extremely patient readers wouldn’t believe it.

“Oh, you should have seen it, Mary!” he exclaimed, “There I was, tied to the altar below the statue of Czernobog, and the priest was saying the chant and holding the rope over my head, when all at once the door burst open and-“

He paused, then, and said, “Oh, hell. What’s his name? The detective inspector? Amelia’s boss? Black, muscular, gay?”

“Ted Gregson.”

“Yes. Right. Him.”

He didn’t continue on, but flung himself into chair and stared into the fireplace. I prodded, “So then what happened?”

“I believe something’s gone wrong with my mind, Mary.”

I rolled my eyes at that. For someone who was always as healthy as a horse he was a terrible hypochondriac.

“You had a senior moment. Anyway you never used to remember Greg’s name either… you may have some sort of block for DIs.”

“No. This is something different. And it’s been going on for a while.”

Sherlock was right. He mostly was. Like a lot of intelligent people, he’d been able to compensate for the earliest stages, but he was right. After that, the progression seemed terribly fast. We spent several months in a haze of scans and therapy, and he accumulated enough prescription bottles to rival my own collection. Some of them were highly experimental and provided by his brother’s network of mysterious scientists. None of them really seemed to do much.

Amelia, being the dear that she is, volunteered to take us in when it all started getting too much for me to handle by myself. But she had three young children and a husband to look after, a hugely busy career with the Met, plus far too many stairs for me to manage every day. Therefore I sold the house at Baker Street for an obscene amount of money to a city stockbroker, and we moved out to the downs for what I knew would be the last time.

I’ve spent my life moving on and leaving things behind me. I’d dropped the original version of myself with no real regrets. I’d quit my first two careers, both of which I’d been proud of and enjoyed. I’d managed to get through the death of a husband who I had loved so much that even thirty years later it still hurt to think of him. So it’s silly how many tears I shed over that dingy Georgian money pit.

But the cash I got for the place was very helpful. Despite the continuing success of the Jim Winston novels and the fact that Sherlock had softened up on taking dull cases for money as he aged, we weren’t exactly rich. Then, too, we had new expenses. I had to hire a nice young woman to help me look after the house, and a large young man to keep an eye on Sherlock in the evenings, since he tended to want to wander after dark.

Then I had to hire another nice young woman because Sherlock had deduced that the original one was unfaithful to her husband, and had of course done it to her face. Then another large young man since Sherlock, who took a while to experience any of the physical debility that comes with Alzheimer’s, got confused and shoulder-threw the first one across the lounge one evening. At a certain point I arranged for a local hippie couple to come by and look after the bees in exchange for the honey.

We carried on for a few years. He had his good days and his bad ones. On his good days he’d still consult, by email, since he had a rock-hard certainty that England couldn’t get by without him. I published “The Mountain of Fear,” which sold as well as any of my books but as always was savaged by the critics for popularist dreck.

I started work on my next novel and got about a quarter of the way through it. Then one day I realized that it was likely that it would be the last one I ever had time to write, and that after it was done, there would be no more Jim Winston stories. I could face not writing it, but I couldn’t face a world where John, even a fictionalized and imaginary John, wasn’t around, and so I put the MS in a drawer in my desk and turned the key. “Caught in transition from imagination to life” was the best epitaph I could have written for him, with my limited abilities.

We had fewer and fewer good days.

On a brilliant indian summer day, I went to London to have a new and complicated type of bone scan that couldn’t be done locally. This was mostly uneventful, although we incidentally discovered that I had finally shrunk to the point where I was less than five feet tall. The nurse said the radiologist would look over the films and be in touch in the next few weeks. I took Amelia to lunch and we talked about the grandchildren, mostly, and she promised to bring them out for a visit at the weekend. Then I took the train back home- I still drove, but didn’t care to do it in the city any more.

When I got back from the station, there was a long black town car parked on the gravel drive in front of our house. The driver, a lovely young woman and obviously a Secret Service agent, was leaning on the hood smoking a cigarette. She nodded politely to me as I passed by. I therefore was not surprised to see Sherlock’s brother sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea. He shared the Holmes tendency for turning up where he wasn’t expected.

Or wanted.

Like his brother, he was well-preserved physically, though in the case of Mycroft the adjective “mummified” always seemed more appropriate. He had to be nearly ninety but his eyes were as bright and judgmental as they ever had been. He nodded to me as Vithnya, the second housekeeper, helped me out of my coat.

“Mycroft.”

“Mary.”

We weren’t ever particularly friendly. He’d never trusted me, and had verbally disapproved of my relationship with Sherlock until it was so well-established that it had become a pointless gesture on his part. For my part, I despised the constant needling that was his preferred method of interaction with his younger brother. To the best of my knowledge he and Sherlock hadn’t met in person for nearly three years.

Even with all that, it was oddly relaxing to talk to him. We were both such skilled and professional liars that we never bothered trying it out with one another.

“How’s he done since I was out?” I asked Vithnya.

“Pretty well. He had a nice chat with Mr. Holmes – with Mr. Mycroft Holmes, that is - and now he’s out with his bees. But he was a little agitated this morning. He kept walking around looking for someone called Angela.”

I could feel Mycroft’s eyes boring in to me over the rim of his teacup. I smiled at the girl and said, “He was looking for me. It’s an old joke we used to have.”

She giggled, and I realized abruptly that she was relieved, that she’d worried I’d be hurt that my husband, in his confusion, wanted to see another woman. This was a thought that was so ridiculous on so many levels that I could have giggled myself.

Vithnya grinned, white teeth in her red lips, and said, “I don’t know about that. This Angela sounds like a most desperate character!”

“I was quite the firecracker when I was younger, my girl. Can you keep an eye on him while I chat with Mycroft, please?”

She poured me a cup of tea of my own and went off to do just that.

Mycroft said, “You don’t seem at all nervous of discovery now that Sherlock has lost what - minimal filters - he ever had.”

“I’m not.”

“No statute of limitations on murder.”

I rolled my eyes at him. He was the one, after all, who had replaced my rather half-assed false identity with something that could stand up to any scrutiny.

“She won’t think about it for more than thirty seconds after leaving this room. I am a little old lady. In the mind of a twenty-two year old, not only am I obviously harmless now but it is inconceivable I ever would have been otherwise. You ought to consider hiring some of us on at MI-6. We’re practically invisible.”

“Perhaps I ought.”

I took a biscuit, damn my blood sugar, and dunked it into my tea.

“Did you and Sherlock have a nice chat?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

“We did,” he said, eventually, “For seventy-eight minutes. Not once in that period did he recognize me. I could tell he was making his best deductions. Sometimes he thought I was John Watson. Sometimes Greg Lestrade, sometimes Victor Trevor. I didn’t realize-”

“Didn’t realize what?”

“That he had become so debilitated. That he was so far gone.”

I sighed.

“He’s dying, Mycroft. What did you think it would be like?”

He took another biscuit from the packet on the table and put it into his mouth. Chewed.

“I never thought that he would be the first to go. I always assumed that I wouldn’t be the one left standing. When he’s gone-”

He trailed off. But I could read his thoughts as clearly as if they’d been my own. When Sherlock was gone there would be no one left with the same sort of mind that Mycroft had… except the departure had already happened, and he’d missed it.

I had some sympathetic pangs – for Mycroft Holmes, of all people – and I said, “He generally perks up a bit in the evenings. I’m happy to put you up, if you’d like. Perhaps you could… try again?”

The British Government responded as I should have expected. He rose, brushed nonexistent crumbs off his lapels, and took up his hat and umbrella.

“I think that my presence is of no help to him any longer, Mary. I expect that I will see you again. At least once.”

He actually bowed to me on his way out.

I finished my tea, and looked out of the window. Vithnya was sitting in the grass, folding a basket of laundry. Sherlock was sitting on the bench that looked out over the garden. Both of them seemed contented, at least as far as one could tell from that distance. The sun was at a deep angle, and so I picked up a blanket and left for the outdoors.

I was glad I had done, as it was starting to get chilly outside and he was in shirtsleeves. Had I married any other man but this one I would have thought that his indifference to the elements was a sign of his decay, but frankly he’d done the exact same thing when he was forty. “Just transport,” is the motto he maintained, in far worse weather than this.

At some point in his life someone, presumably his mother, drilled some basic forms of politeness into Sherlock Holmes. He was terrifyingly, frankly rude in ordinary conversation but when you handed him a cup of tea or tucked a blanket around his body you would inevitably receive a gracious, “Ah, thank you.” It’d be in the tone of a king addressing his subjects, but you’d get it. I got just that as I settled the afghan around his knees, and sat down next to him to look over the hives.

“I’m expecting John and Mary to turn up. Have you seen them?” he asked me.

When he’d first become ill, he’d asked me to always correct him when he had his lapses. I’d agreed, but, again, I was such a natural liar that it didn’t much trouble me to say now that, “I believe they’ll be along shortly.” Awful, I know, but sometimes I just wanted not to see him upset.

“Ah,” he replied.

A drone, a late survivor of the autumnal purges, buzzed up and landed on the blanket over his knee. He gently nudged it onto his hand and raised it to eye level before setting it down on the ground.

“I’m a bit worried,” he said, conversationally.

“About what?” I asked.

“Occasionally John’s wife lets me shag her. And I’m not sure that’s right.”

I blinked. Occasionally? Thirty-odd years, and I’m not going to go into details about our sex life but it was really very acceptable, and occasionally is what he remembered? And that I ‘let him’? But all I said was, “I’m sure Mary wouldn’t do that if John objected. So it’s all right.”

“Ah, good. You know Mary, then?”

“I do, yes.”

He squinted at me, which, Gawd-help-us, was still terribly cute.

“You’re… one of her relatives,” he said, hesitantly.

I smiled. “I am,” I said, “How did you know that?”

He grinned at me. No matter what he’d ever said or how much he’d griped about the unobservant nature of most people, I knew that he loved to explain his deductions.

“It’s the ears,” he said, setting the pads of his fingers on my chin and turning my face to the side, “Not quite as uniquely identifying as a fingerprint but with a strong genetic component. The pendulosity of the lobes, the position of the pinnae… clearly you and Mary are closely connected. You’re too old to be the younger sister, and the mother is dead, but..”

He took hold of my hand and looked at my fingers. “There’s other things. You and Mary both have a minor congenital deformity of the smallest finger. It angles slightly outward. Not enough to disable either of you, but distinctive, and…”

He turned my hands in his. I have nearly perfectly matched scars on my palms… on my right hand, the souvenir of a Caracas knife fight when I was twenty-seven. On my left, the souvenir of reaching into a sink filled with dishwater and one broken glass when I was forty.

And then he stopped, still staring at my hands, and said, “Oh. Oh Mary. How could I have forgotten you? I had you off by heart.”

I lifted a hand and stroked his grizzled chin.

“It’s fine,” I said, “You have me back.”

He just tangled his fingers in mine and stared.

“That’s my mother’s ring,” he said. “Did I give that to you?”

I looked at the amethyst on my right ring finger and said, “Yes. When we got married.”

“I remember that. You were beautiful in your dress.”

I laughed, unwittingly. “That was my first wedding. You and I just went to a registry office at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday.”

“Really?”

“We did. There wasn’t much time to plan a wedding. The exact words of your proposal were, “If I have to be Sir Sherlock you can damn well be Lady Mary.” It was the day before you got your KCBE.”

“By God. What a rubbish proposal.”

I smiled.

“Unconventional, definitely. But I wouldn’t have had you any other way.”

#quarto's fics #Marylock #retirementlock #Major character death #it's john #and in this story it happened decades ago

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shipmistress9 · 4 years

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FTLOAP: Chapter 48,5: Interlude 6: Traitors

For The Love Of A Princess Masterpost

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

Taglist: @drchee5e @hey-its-laura-again @thepixiedustfactory (If you want me to add you to this list, just let me know. ^^)

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If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

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AN: As promised, here’s an interlude, and a slightly quicker update, too. It’s a tough one but also one I’ve been waiting for for a long time now. It will shed some light onto a character… that’s been simultaneously over- and under-estimated so far. And I’m incredibly curious for how you’re all going to react.

Also, this chapter comes entirely unbetaed. I’m sorry if there are more mistakes than usual. ^^“

***Shoutouts***

Again, thank you all for your lovely comments! They mean the world to me, especially now where the fandom seems to shrink with every week and the responses overall become fewer and fewer. To everyone who still comments, you are my heroes! ^^

. o O o .

With his eyes on the immaculately-kept garden outside, Thuggory stood at the large window in his study, with a disdainful look on his face. “So, tell me,” he sneered in his usual bored tone and without turning around. “Did anything worth mentioning happen today?”

Behind him, the servant nervously shuffled from one foot to the other. “No, your Grace. It was just the same as yesterday. The fighting grounds were filled with men practising their skills, but aside from one slight injury and a few cuts, nothing happened.”

“Idiots, all of them…” Thuggory huffed under his breath. For two days now, all these stupid men were preparing for the King’s ridiculous Dragon Hunt. As if that was anything but a complete waste of time. “Who got injured?” Maybe he was lucky. Maybe it had hit the right man again.

“Erm…” The servant took a moment to think. “Nobody important, I think. It was a man named Gregor, the firstborn son of the Baron of Greenbridge. But it was just a shallow flesh wound on his shoulder, nothing fatal.”

Grunting, Thuggory nodded. For a moment, he’d hoped that Eret had conveniently taken himself out of the game after all. But of course, he wasn’t that lucky. Besides, he surely would have heard about that already.

“So what did the ducal heirs do?”

“Sir Snotloud is still indisposed. Rumours have it that he won’t participate in the Hunt at all.” Thuggory nodded for his servant to speak on. The Westhill boy wasn’t of much interest to him anyway. “The Sirs Dagur and Eret were again practising in the fighting grounds, but just like yesterday, they were going at it lightly. It is assumed that they will only participate in the Hunt for show and all their training now is just so Sir Eret can regain his strength after the attack. Some even jokingly commented that his squire was working out harder than his master.”

Thuggory snorted but didn’t comment. Of course, the highborn heirs wouldn’t get their hands dirty and crawl through the forest for this pointless Hunt. Why would they? They had no use for a measly county somewhere far off their hometown. The same was true for Thuggory, of course, but in opposition to them, he at least had the decency to not even pretend that he would take part in this Hunt.

Although, they probably had no choice in the matter, he mused, grimacing. They held no power of their own, after all, always had to do what their fathers wanted. They had to participate in the King’s charade, if only to give it more significance.

Besides, if the latest rumours were true then the two Sirs were going to use this time away from the public eye in other ways anyway. Just thinking about that brought an angry sneer to Thuggory’s face. If that horse-loving fool really preferred men over women, then he deserved her even less.

Not that Eret should have any right to her in the first place…

“Was the Princess there, too?” he asked through gritted teeth. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Yes, your Grace. She arrived shortly before noon, joined the ducal heirs for lunch, and then stayed for a couple of hours to watch her betro– uhm… I mean, her soon-to-be betroth–”

Growling angrily, Thuggory whirled around, interrupting the man.

“She’s mine!”

With one furious motion, he wiped a sideboard nearby clear off everything, a carafe of wine and some glasses lading on the ground. They shattered with loud clangour, shards scattering everywhere and wine seeping into the carpet.

The servant winced but didn’t move. “Y-your Grace?”

But Thuggory didn’t reply. He just stared at his fist, anger making it tremble. Astrid was supposed to be his, always had been! Thuggory had known that since the day she was born, drummed into his head by his otherwise useless father. Sure, rumours had it that the King had made arrangements for her to marry one of the ducal heirs. But the grand dukedoms already were close allies of the crown, where was the point in handing the crown’s most valuable possession over to one of them? No, the only logical, only sensible, only possible option was to give her to him, to a powerful rival to buy his support.

Oh, yes, Astrid had been his since her very first breath. But she and everyone else refused to acknowledge that. All she’d ever done was mock him, during their youth and now as well. But, oh, she would learn her place! As soon as she was his wife and he could finally teach her some manners, she would never forget it again.

Thuggory took a deep breath to calm down again, just as the door opened and another servant poked their head in. They hesitated, probably taking in the mess on the ground, but were smart enough not to comment.

“Your Grace? Your… erm… your guest arrived. Where should I lead her?”

He smirked. Now, wasn’t that perfect timing? “Send her into the garden,” he ordered. “And clean the floor again in the meantime.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead turned on the spot and walked outside. It was an unusually warm night for this time of year; maybe he would just stay here after his guest was gone. Although, it surely would rain later that night, judging by the clouds and humidity.

“Good evening, my Lord,” came a pleasant and familiar voice from the darkness behind him.

One side of his mouth tipped up into a lazy smirk. “Come here.”

The woman obeyed, came closer and bowed deeply before him. She was an Ástir, the same one he asked for every time. She was not from the main Temple that Fyrir Mala supervised but from one of the smaller district temples at the edge of the city. It was a temple that was specialised in a certain… taste. Thuggory wasn’t allowed to hurt her for real and if she put a stop to his actions, he had to abide immediately. Sometimes, like today, he loathed these rules, but he had to stick to them nonetheless. For now…

The Ástir not coming from the main temple also meant that she didn’t officially play a specific role. But she knew what he expected of her and had prepared herself according to his usual requests. She had some braids woven into her blond hair, and with her slim frame and grey-blue eyes, she was sufficient enough. His imagination could fill in the rest.

“Undress for me,” he ordered, and watched transfixed as she slowly slid off her elegant blue dress. He never looked at her face; that would have ruined the illusion. Instead, his eyes clung to every bit of bare skin she revealed, her shoulders, her breasts, her shapely backside, and he wondered whether Astrid’s curves would be equally appealing once she was his.

What followed was the same fantasy he always acted out when he summoned this Ástir. He made her kneel between his legs and worship his cock until it was hard and leaking. Then he grabbed her head and pushed her down. Tonight, he particularly enjoyed making her choke. The way her body seized, the lovely sounds she made, and the sporadic tears his actions inadvertently drew from her eyes – it all helped to curb and calm his anger. He wanted to come across her face, but that would only remind him that she wasn’t really Astrid. Instead, he made her swallow him down, her face hidden against his abdomen. After that, it was his turn to give her some attention. He made her get down on all four and slap her backside until it was glowing and his hand stung. Then he knelt behind her, fucked into her with his fist in her hair to keep her in place, and pumped her full of his seed, groaning in satisfaction.

Oh, he couldn’t wait until he could do this to Astrid.

Until she was his!

The woman’s legs were wobbly when she got up and got dressed again. He liked to watch her as he enjoyed a fresh drink, liked to see his come slide down her legs and soil that pretty dress.

“Aren’t you tired of this game yet?”

The Ástir threw a curious look at the newcomer, but upon Thuggory’s gesture, she quickly left the two noblemen alone.

“Jake,” Thuggory greeted the other man with an unnerved sigh. “Can’t you wait until after my entertainment is over?”

Lord Jake of Blackshire laughed and lounged down into another chair on Thuggory’s ample terrasse. “Why? Isn’t it always the same anyway? Although, I understand your frustration. It doesn’t seem like your plan is working. Your precious princess is about to marry Sir Eret,” he sneered, “and after that first failed attempt, they won’t risk him getting killed again.”

“I know,” Thuggory growled. “But he promised I would get her as my bride if I fulfil my end of the bargain. And I have! The riots are spreading over the entire kingdom. Soon, the King will be too busy with an open civil war to care about any other threats.”

Jake snorted, audibly rolling his eyes. “Oh, the mysterious man in the shadows. Seriously, who is he that he can make such promises?”

“That’s none of your concern. You can’t betray information you don’t have; the less you know the better. All you need to know is your part.”

Jake leaned forward, his brows furrowed. “And I did my part,” he hissed. “Your old man is gone and you took his place.”

“And you got your promotion, didn’t you? Captain?”

Jake growled. “That was only half of the bargain. What about my father?”

Thuggory waved him off. “All in good time. And don’t you forget your place, son of a baron.”

He could hear how Jake gritted his teeth and swallowed his pride. “You’re right, Milord. Please forgive my impertinence.”

Nodding, Thuggory accepted the apology. Jake was one of his most loyal supporters, maybe even someone he would call a friend. He just had to make sure the man didn’t forget his place from time to time.

“Anyway. He said he would take over the Kingdom when the time is right. And that I can have her then.” He snorted. “Not that she’ll be of any political worth then anymore, that stuck-up bitch! She should be betrothed to me now! Seriously, what are they even thinking up there in the castle? It’s so obvious, their downfall will be their own fault!”

His hand tightened around his drink, the glass nearly breaking again. How could the King reject his marriage proposal for Astrid? As Duke of Meathead, he was one of the most powerful men in the entire Kingdom, with his Dukedom of not small influence and so close to the capitol. The King couldn’t afford to not have him as his ally! Oh yes, all the riots and problems in the Kingdom were the King’s own fault. If only he’d agreed to give his daughter’s hand to him, then the peace could have been maintained.

Oh, but she would pay for her father’s mistakes! With the Ástir, he was bound by law to abide by these boring rules. But once it was Astrid as his wife in his bed? Then nothing would keep him from using her like he longed to. Oh, he couldn’t wait to make her scream.

“If only that loser had managed to kill Eret during the tournament,” he grumbled, downing the rest of his drink. “Then they might come to their senses after all.”

Jake chuckled. “Were you able to find out why he tried that attempt by now? Do you know who instructed him or whether his family got an unexpected payment? Or did he really just do that on his own?”

“I don’t know.” Thuggory shook his head. “Him doing that just on his own makes little sense, but I wasn’t able to find any connections, no-one who could have ordered him to try that attempt. Were you more successful in finding out anything about that rumour about Eret and Dagur?”

Jake leaned back in his seat and grimaced. “No, I wasn’t. I couldn’t find out who started it; in fact, it seems like it started at more than one place at once. Some leads point toward the servants’ market, others to a tavern that’s popular with soldiers, and some even hint that they started at some tea party one of the higher noble ladies held. So, whoever really is behind it, they are good. And as for whether the rumour is true… Well, there’s no proof, obviously. But either way, the princess doesn’t seem to care whether her future husband prefers playing the flute over the violin.” He accompanied his words by outlining a distinct curvy form into the air.

Thuggory snorted. “Too bad. But then she wouldn’t even have a clue about what it means. It was a long shot anyway.”

“I could try to get proof,” Jake offered. “Officially, Eret and Dagur are participating in the Hunt, but that’s just a front, obviously. What would they need that county for? So, if these rumours are true, then they will spend the days in some inn and fuck each other senseless. And if some of my men accidentally storm the room when they hear screaming…” He grinned menacingly.

Thuggory laughed, once. He knew why he kept Jake around. But then he shook his head. “Tempting. But he ordered me to keep my hands off the ducal heirs. He must have plans for them, though he wouldn’t tell me what they are.”

Jake snickered. “So his high and mighty Grace, the Duke of Meathead, doesn’t know everything, either?”

“Oh, shut up,” Thuggory muttered. “I might not know everything – for the same reasons that I won’t tell you more too – but I still know enough. I know that this summer is going to see a lot of changes and that for the next Midwinter Nights, the Gods will witness another kind of sacrifice .”

“Let me guess. Will it be a more… royal sacrifice? Oh, I’d love to see the Prince bleed out. He overlooked me a few too many time and–”

“Quiet!”

Thuggory’s voice was sharp, silencing Jake in an instant. He held up a hand to keep him from asking any questions, as his eyes focused on a bit of shrubbery in his garden. It had moved just now, and he could swear that there’d been a noise, too. Something of a gasp.

He gave Jake a sign who nodded and they both stood up.

“Yes, it really was a shame how you’ve been ignored for all this time,” Thuggory lamented. He walked around and rummaged about with a new drink, covering up any noises Jake might make. “And all that just because you misbehaved a few times here and there. It really wasn’t your fault that this tavern got destroyed now, was it?”

It happened with a swiftness and accuracy Thuggory couldn’t help but silently salute. Within only seconds, Jake had reached into the shrubbery and dragged out the cretin who’d dared to spy on them. “Ha! Got him!”

“Very good,” Thuggory sneered as he came closer. “The Prince was indeed a fool to disregard your talents.”

Jake grinned.

“But now, who do we have here…” Thuggory let his eyes roam over the young man. In the dim light of the night, he wasn’t able to see much, only an untidy mob of dark hair, clothes too simple for a nobleman, and a face that seemed vaguely familiar. “I know you, don’t I?”

The man pressed his lips together and glared at him in a useless attempt to look threatening, despite the knife at his throat. It was almost cute. No, this was no man; calling him a boy was more fitting.

“You certainly have,” Jake snorted. “He’s a squire of one of our beloved ducal heirs.”

A dark grin spread over Thuggory’s face. “Oh right. Now, what are you doing in my private garden? You wouldn’t be here to spy on me, would you?”

The boy was trembling now. Though Thuggory couldn’t blame him; Jake was pressing his knife against the skin at his throat now so he wouldn’t get any ideas and yell for help. Everyone with at least a little bit of sense would be scared.

“I-I heard what you said about Prince Daniel,” he squeaked, terror in his thin voice. “But you won’t get away with that! Not now that I know about what you’re up to! I’ll go straight to the King and…”

Thuggory gave a bored sigh and nodded at Jake who hurled the boy around back into the shrubbery. A moment later, the gurgling sound of a cut throat could be heard, then a body slumping to the ground.

“I know it’s too late now,” Jake commented casually as he wiped off his blade in the grass. The coming rain would wash away all traces of blood. “But I thought you were supposed to keep your hands away from the ducal heirs.”

“The heirs, yes. Nobody ever said anything about their squires.”

Jake snorted but otherwise didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest. “So, what shall we do with him?” he instead asked, nodding at the shrubbery.

“Just get rid of the body, I don’t have any use for it. Although…” Thuggory paused, then stepped to where the dead boy lay. He kneeled down and after a quick inspection took a heavy ring off the boy’s finger, a decorated knife from his belt, and a handful of coins from his pocket. The fact that he’d had these things in the first place revealed his simple clothes to only be a charade. “Make sure the body won’t get found right away, but also don’t make it too complicated. Let it look like someone was running out of time.”

Jake nodded, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “I know just what to do. And what’s this for?” He gestured at the boy’s belongings in Thuggory’s hand.

“Oh, this.” Now, it was Thuggory’s turn to smile cruelly. “I’ll use these things to cause a little chaos. I might not be allowed to harm Eret directly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun.“

. o O o .

AN: So…Thuggory really is an asshole! Abusive, violent, deluded, and just Evil.

But! He didn’t plan the attack on Eret and neither did he spread the rumour about Eret and Dagur. In fact… he’s not that much of an evil mastermind at all…

So… where does that leave us?

…

On a side note. Many of you guessed that Daniel would die in this chapter or that it would be revealed that he’d died some while ago already. And I just want to say… I don’t consider Daniel to be a minor character at all.

And last but not least: There’s a phrase I used in this interlude that I’m very fond of… but that sadly isn’t my own creation. It’s the part about "him preferring to play the flute over the violin.” I can’t say for sure where it comes from, but I know that I read it in the “Die Legende von Askir” series by Richard Schwarz.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

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Next chapter

#FTLOAP #For The Love Of A Princess #Hiccstrid #fanfiction #httyd #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #medieval au #royalty au #hiccstrid royal au #Minor Character Death #tw: abuse mentioned

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gingerteaonthetardis · 4 years

Text

prompt: 31 days of ficmas - peppermint

pairing: fremione

word count: 3507

rating: t (for the cursing)

i’ve been in a fremione frame of mind and i can’t stop myself and i’m sorry. also, this was written late and unedited, so forgive me for any typos within.

This is stupid, she thinks. This whole exercise is pointless, and ridiculous, and stupid.

She also thinks: For Circe's sake, I am a grown woman. I am an adult. I can do this.

Other than the litany of furious self-censure, she's not actually sure what she's thinking. Only that she's twenty and the breakup was bad—really, really bad—and if she doesn't do something, she is going to be forced to give up on men, once and for all—which, maybe, she thinks, wouldn't be so bad. It would surely leave a lot more time for work.

But that's a distraction. A distraction from the potion sitting on her desk—in her Compact Cauldron Pro, the Millennium Model, not yet available to the public. It'll hit shelves after Christmas, which, for her, has come early. (Being a war hero has its perks.)

The potion is under a stasis charm, so she can't smell it. Not yet.

The worst part of this—and the part she's loath to admit to anyone, least of all herself—is that this is actually a bad test. If this were some sort of formal experiment which would have to pass through a peer review process, she'd fail at the first flag. The premise is flawed. Amortentia isn't a predictor of fate, some sort of alchemical dowsing rod that points toward one's heart's desire. It's a last ditch attempt at spicing up a relationship, or a rather inauspicious start to one. It's the purview of desperate witches.

And she is not—she flatly refuses to be—a desperate witch.

Which is why this potion will not be going anywhere, certainly not into anyone. It is merely an intellectual exercise. A reassurance, really. A confirmation that she can still feel attracted to anything after… well, everything.

Her hand is steady and her wand doesn't shake as she lifts the stasis charm. Almost immediately, a faint trail of steam wafts towards her.

This is it, she asserts. The moment of truth.

She hasn’t let herself think about what will happen if she comes up blank—no scent.

But she should’ve known better.

For a moment, she's so busy being relieved about smelling anything that she doesn't actually register what she's smelling. Her olfactory receptors lurch into action, trying to untangle the scents into something she understands, but it's difficult and she feels she's already missing pieces. Should've paid more attention, she berates herself.

There's still the scent of cut grass, and parchment. There's still—her heart drops into her stomach—mint. A bit sweeter than before, but undeniably familiar. It's enough to make her guts churn. How little she's learned, how little she's changed, if it's all still so unmistakably him, so infuriatingly tied up in what they were, what they thought they'd be.

How bloody futile this exercise has been, if it’s still just him.

Disappointed. That's what she feels, even as the familiar scent tries to soothe her frazzled nerves. Grass, parchment, mint. Something else, something warm. Skin, maybe. But all she feels is a grim sense of disappointment.

Using a delicate pair of metal tongs—an accessory to the latest Compact Cauldron kit—she drops a bezoar into the bubbling potion, to mitigate the effects of the Amortentia. She could sell it, probably. Morgana knows she needs the money. But the whole thing feels silly now, and she just wants to be done with it, pour the whole thing down the drain.

That's exactly what she's doing when Fred gets home.

(He's pretty good, as far as flatmates go. Maybe a bit nosey, but such is the Weasley way.)

His nose is twitching from the moment he enters their little kitchen, eyes looking for the source of the smell. "Are you baking?"

Hermione's mouth twists into a wry grin. "Not tonight. Just work stuff." (He's used to her vagueness when it comes to her "job." While pursuing her Potions Mastery, she’d been doing a lot of freelance potioneering for the local apothecaries; it's not strictly legal until she completes her Mastery, but then, she can't help if she's better than any other brewers they've got access to. "That's what happens when you let war heroes graduate without finishing their N.E.W.T.s,” she complains.)

(She calls the freelance work honing her craft. Fred calls it bloody genius.)

"Whatever it is, it smells delicious.”

Curiosity comes from nowhere, as if he’d brought it into the room with him. “Oh? What’s it smell like?”

Fred’s eyes narrow. “Is this for a grade, Professor?”

“No,” she replies, careful to shrug naturally. “Just curious.”

“It’s like… fresh-baked cookies or something,” he offers. His eyes have a bit of the dreamy cast that he actually gets quite frequently, when he’s hungry and she’s gotten takeout or made brownies from the box mix she gets at Tesco, the one with all the added sugar. She always puts in extra chocolate chips—even though she finds the result far too sweet—because Fred prefers brownies that way, and wizards don’t really get cavities.

But he’s still speaking. “And also sort of like that… that body stuff you have.”

Hermione’s hands freeze under the spray of hot water.

“My lotion?”

“Mhm, that’s it.” He snaps his fingers in recognition. “Smells like flowers, yeah?”

“Rose,” she nods. She tries to speak past the lump in her throat. “And lavender.”

“Right. Thought about nicking it, actually, ‘cos it smells so nice.” For a long moment, the only sound is the tap and, Hermione’s sure, her galloping heartbeat.

They’re common smells, she reminds herself. Pull it together, Granger.

Anyway, you never smell like cookies. You hardly bake at all.

Amortentia isn’t prescriptive, the logical part of her mind chimes in. It’s general, and those are generally appealing scents. It could indicate any number of things—not that it does, because Amortentia doesn’t actually indicate anything.

But someone ought to tell her pulse that, because it’s racing.

The almost-silence is broken by the sound of Fred lowering a brown bag to the counter, it’s heavy occupants knocking together. “I picked up some things, on the way home,” he offers. She can’t tell if he’s ignoring the awkward silence, or unaware of it. “Hope curry’s okay. And I got more tea.”

On the way home? Her brows furrow as she turns toward him, leaving her cauldron to soak. “We live above the shop, Fred.”

His grin is immediate and crookedly familiar. “I know.”

And then he’s walking out of the kitchen, and she’s not sure what’s just happened. She’s not sure why her heart is still pounding, or why she’s so nervous about this, until she’s unpacking the bag. Nestled between the curries—yellow for him, panang for her—are two boxes of tea. (When she’d first moved in, he’d been genuinely gobsmacked by her tea consumption, and yet, he never seems bothered by the half-filled mugs that scatter across his—well, their—flat, collecting on her desk like a child might collect rocks, forgetting to return them to the outdoors.) One box is her favorite, of course—P.G. Tips, and the larger quantity by far. And for him, a box of…

Peppermint.

Bloody hell.

The act of becoming attracted to one’s flatmate is made substantially more complicated when one’s previous dating history includes said flatmate’s brother. It’s rendered borderline mad when said flatmate’s family is essentially your own, making the pair of you indelibly intertwined, socially speaking, for better or worse.

That said, Hermione begins the process admirably—that is, with a good panic.

It is two days until Christmas at the Burrow, Fred has been acting completely normally, and she’s now intensely aware that he uses peppermint toothpaste and has a stash of candy canes in the cupboard, which he was supposed to be saving for Christmas, only his mile-wide sweet tooth had diminished the stores substantially.

She’s also stolen a few for her own purposes—namely, for putting in brownies.

(You don’t bake, she’d said. Well, she bloody well does now, and it’s because she fancies him, and it’s honestly so ridiculous that she can barely stand to look at herself.)

She’d always known he had an affinity for peppermint. She’d just never realized how deep the rabbit hole went, how much the scent of it infused everything he did—peppermint oil cutting crisply through the thick scent of gunpowder, even at the shop. The smell lingering in the steamy air after he’d used the shower...

No. That’s really the last straw.

Things have come to a head, she decides. It’s time to call in the big guns. Time for some tough love.

“Ginny.” Her head is in the fireplace and she’s sending up sparks. Not from having her head in the fireplace, but in a more general sense. From the panic, most likely. “I have done something incredibly stupid, and I need your help. Immediately.”

Hermione sees Ginny, standing in the den at Grimmauld Place in her pyjamas, and she’s relieved that Harry isn’t around to hear her cry for assistance. “Alright?” The ginger girl arches a delicate brow, knowing what Hermione isn’t saying: it’s time to talk about men again. “Come over, then.”

But behind her, she hears footsteps. “Shit. Hold on.”

“What’s this about needing help?”

She tries to compose herself before she faces him, tries to calm the raging blush that wants to build in her cheeks. Becoming attracted to Fred Weasley is perhaps the most inconvenient thing she’s ever had the misfortune to do.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she mumbles, turning around. “Just girl things.”

His eyebrows rise, threatening to lift off his face. “Girl things.” It’s not a question, and yet, it is. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you later, then?”

She nods, a touch too quickly. “Definitely. I live here, after all.” Shit.

A grin starts at the corners of his mouth, but not evenly. Higher on the left side. Slow and sweet like extra-chocolate-chip-brownies. Tooth-rotting. Shit shit shit. “Yes, you most certainly do.”

“I have to go,” she squeaks, practically diving for the floo.

When she arrives at Grimmauld Place, the first words out of her mouth are, “Ginny, I’m fucked.”

It is Christmas Eve morning at the Burrow, and Ginny is laughing at her.

She’s laughing at her, because she knows, and because Fred just walked over to the pair of them with a cup of hot cocoa for Hermione, and it has everything: marshmallows, a dollop of cream, and—crooked over the lip of the mug, looking like some sort of calling card—a candy cane. When she sips the cocoa, the flavor of peppermint nips at her tongue, and she wonders how she’s supposed to just… just continue like this, when everything peppermint probably tastes like him. Not that she knows, or will ever know—should ever know.

Nonetheless, Ginny snorts. “Good, Hermione?”

Fred is still loitering on the arm of the couch, looming in that way he does unintentionally, as if completely unaware of his height. She thinks it’s possible that he is unaware of his height—their flat has very high ceilings, and the rest of the Weasleys are a rather tall bunch anyway. She doesn’t look up at him, but she hums something that she hopes sounds like approval.

“That’s good. We all know how you love peppermint.”

She would kick Ginny’s leg, only they’re sitting on the couch and it would be obvious. Instead, she shifts in her seat and tries not to let her face flush, breathing deeply. The steam rising from her cocoa fills her lungs, and the faint tinge of mint calms her.

“It’s true,” Fred answers, speaking over her head to his smirking sister. “She’s started putting it in everything. Even brownies, which is just brilliant, if you ask me. Peppermint and chocolate—it’s a match made in heaven.”

She bites her lip.

At home, sitting in the cupboard next to his depleted box of candy canes, is a gift-wrapped package containing twenty-five York Peppermint Patties, with a note. “Your supplies were getting a little low. Try these. Happy Christmas.” He won’t see them until tomorrow evening, when everyone returns home from the holiday festivities.

“Funny, isn’t it?” she speaks up, not knowing why she’s speaking up. “I never used to use peppermint, except in potions. Too strong a flavor, maybe.” She looks up at Fred, and again, she’s unsure why she’s doing it, not knowing exactly which horrifying compulsion has sent her careening towards something like a confession. “But it’s grown on me.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks down at her, his arm propped on the back of the sofa. She can smell that other scent, that underlying one she hadn’t quite been able to catch over the cauldron, and she swallows. Well, she thinks.

Well.

Ginny doesn’t say anything either, which is a minor miracle.

“This needs alcohol,” she announces, standing up from the couch. Suddenly, she’s almost as tall as he is sitting down, and she knows that if she leans in close, she’ll be able to smell the mint on his breath. She steps further away.

Nobody comments that it’s only noon, or that she hasn’t eaten yet, for which she is grateful. Molly simply watches—hawkish and mothering—as she pours liquor into her steaming mug.

It’s always an interesting shuffle, finding enough beds to fit everyone on Christmas Eve. Because they well and truly need to fit everyone. Charlie’s in, and Bill and Fleur and little Teddy, who needs space to have his crib set up. Harry’s here, of course, and since he and Ginny are not yet bound and married, Molly refuses to permit any “shenanigans.” That is, she makes things difficult and awkward and ensures that a slightly drunk game of Musical Beds, sans music, is played by nearly everyone once the lights are off and people think they can reasonably get away with it.

And then there’s the loo situation.

She needs to brush her teeth, because she’s drunk just a bit too much and her mouth feels scuzzy and she just wants to taste something clean and fresh rather than her own swollen tongue. She curses Harry for bringing that bottle of Smirnoff, and Ron for making her feel so awkward that she’d needed to drink, and Ginny for being so transparently teasing every time Fred so much as set foot within a five foot radius of her.

She makes her way through the darkened hallway and into the bathroom, where she pulls out her beaded bag and Accio’s a toothbrush. And then, she sees it, just sitting there. A little tube of peppermint toothpaste, and they’re on the same floor—she knows, because she couldn’t help paying attention—so it must be his. It’s the same brand and everything.

Something comes over Hermione, like she’s been Imperiused, only it’s probably just a heady combination of alcohol and steadily-growing attraction. She uses the toothpaste.

She just… uses the bloody toothpaste. It tastes perfectly normal; it’s fresh and a bit sweet and it makes her mouth tingle just a bit, much the same way hers does. It’s so normal that she’s almost giddy with it, with how normal and right it is to taste this flavor in her mouth.

Have I gone mad?

She’d once used the Avis charm to send a flock of birds haranguing after Ron, so it’s entirely possible that she’s always been a bit mad when it comes to this sort of thing.

Also, she reasons, I’m not quite sober.

She decides to let is pass, and she swings open the bathroom door only to run face-first into a chest. Her head tilts back—up and up and up she looks—and of course, it’s Fred.

“Hi, roomie,” she greets in a cheerful whisper, because again: not sober.

He whispers back, “I’ll never understand that term. We don’t share a room, only a flat.”

She shrugs. “We share a bathroom. I used your toothpaste just now, actually.”

He looks down at her, face only lit by the little fairy light in the bathroom. He looks confused.

“How d’you know it’s mine?”

“Because it’s peppermint,” she explains. “You love peppermint.”

“Do I?”

She nods, chin bobbing wildly. “Mhm, you do. I put it in everything because you like it.” Warning flares are firing in her mind, but she wants to ignore them. She wants to keep whispering. “Although, I must like it, too. I smelled it in the Amortentia.”

Understanding seems to dawn on his face, but he smothers it rather quickly. “Hermione,” he whispers, and somehow even that raspy sound is gentle. “You should get to sleep. It’s late.”

“I’m sorry,” she adds. “For using your toothpaste. I just wanted to know.”

And here comes the grin. God, it’s the warmest, stickiest, sweetest expression. He grins down at her like her very being brings him pleased amusement. “Know what?”

“What it tasted like.”

He shifts, and suddenly he’s slightly out of the light—dimmed, and his face is hard to read.

“That sounds mad,” she muses. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. What were your findings?”

Now it’s her turn to shift her weight, from foot to foot, because he’s right, she is tired and she ought to go to bed. She yawns. “Tasted right,” she says. “I think I should go to bed before Ginny hogs all the sheets.”

Fred snorts. “She’s not in there. I recommend a silencing charm.”

She’s suddenly glad it’s too dark for him to see her blush. “Oh. Right.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers, moving aside to let her pass.

“Goodnight, Fred. Enjoy your toothpaste.”

He huffs a laugh, and she stifles a groan as the door creaks closed behind him. She hears the dull sound of the tap and it almost drowns out the sound of her thoughts going shit, shit, shit.

When she wakes up on Christmas morning, she’s got a mild headache, and she’s not in the right bedroom at all. She knows this, because she’s slept in Ginny’s bedroom approximately fifty times over the years, and also, because there’s a very heavy arm slung over her hip that shouldn’t be there.

Trying to roll over without waking the owner of said arm—she doesn’t even need to look at the freckles and the dusting of coppery hair to know whose it is—is a matter of some delicacy, and she doesn’t actually manage it. His eyes are already open, and he’s looking at her, terribly amused, practically sparkling with it. He doesn’t move his arm.

“Wrong bedroom,” she croaks.

He nods.

“In my defense, I was a little bit drunk, and there are about a thousand doors in this hallway alone.”

He nods again, his grin widening.

“Oh gods, I stole your toothpaste and then your bed.”

Another nod. “You were passed out by the time I was done brushing my teeth.”

Silence hangs between them, and she can’t decide whether it’s awkward or not. He certainly looks comfortable enough. “Well, I suppose now we’ve actually been room-mates.”

He nods more slowly.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, burying her face in her hands. She can feel her hair crowding around her hands like a nest, and she knows she must look frightful, and that only makes her burrow further into her fingers. “Fred, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I only figured it out a few days ago, with the Amortentia—”

“Figured out what?”

She peeks through her fingers, and his eyes seem to see right through the cracks. “Please don’t make me say it,” she whispers. “I can deal with it and it doesn’t have to mess anything up.”

“Deal with what, Hermione?”

“Are you smiling?” She groans. “I can hear you laughing at me, and it’s not funny, Fred Weasley.”

Finally, as if he’s tired of waiting, he pulls her hands away from her face, holding both of hers in his. With his other hand, he brushes away some of the curls that have tumbled down over her forehead. “Freshly-baked brownies,” he says through his grin. “Roses and lavender. Honestly, witch.”

She blinks. “Brownies?”

“Oh, did I not say?” his grin is glittery, early morning snow bright with the beginnings of laughter. “Did I not have a little sign that said, ‘I Fancy You, Hermione Granger’? Amortentia, indeed.” He clucks in a show of disappointment. “What were you brewing it for? Trying to make me more infatuated with you?”

“If you must know,” she answers primly, “it was an experiment. I was trying to sort out whether I was still… whether I felt… I was just curious, alright? About what attracted me. And what attracts me, apparently,” and she feels the blood blossoming in her cheeks, but she pushes through it, “is you.”

He chuckles. “You know, if I kiss you right now, it won’t taste like peppermint.”

There isn’t enough breath in her lungs, or blood in her head. There’s only this little ache under her ribcage, thumping in time with her racing heart.

“I don’t care.”

And she doesn’t care. She really, really doesn’t.

She doesn’t care for nearly thirty entire minutes.

Still, that night, when she tucks herself under an unfamiliar duvet and spends the next hour or so tasting peppermint, she can’t help but be pleased.

#this is my longest prompt fill of the month BY FAR and #frankly i don't have it in me to be surprised anymore #but like... bedsharing #i had to do it to em #fremione #fred x hermione #hp #ficmas #ficlet #abbey.txt

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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First Loves, Gentle Kisses, and Families (Sriracha, Part 28.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Eleven bringing more people to your life was something that was terrifying, yet fun and full of adventure at the same time. And there were more exciting news about to come from the Hawkins Lab.

A/N: The Snow Ball is approaching, romance is in the air, everyone is feeling good, this is going to be fluffy.

Word count: 2.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren, @creedslove, @missdictatorme

Master list: H E R E

It was just a matter of time before you found your way to at least respect the children Eleven was friends with. There was this Sinclair boy, Lucas, who always had some dumb jokes that made you at least chuckle. There was Dustin, who sometimes had the front teeth and sometimes he hadn’t got any because of some weird illness he had. There was also Maxine, who was quiet, but she liked to cook with you and Eleven. You already knew Will and his Dungeons and Dragons and you’ve seen Mike around already, so there was no surprise there.

Just before December was about to start, you first noticed that Mike and Eleven maybe are a thing. You noticed those careful touches that you shouldn’t see, you could notice how aware Mike is around you and how El blushed every time he looked at her.

Once, you asked Hopper about that when you were about to lay in the bed.

“Hey, I feel like you’re keeping some secrets away from me.” - You furrowed and put on your pajama pants, putting your hair in a comfortable hairstyle, so it wouldn’t bother you during the night. Hopper's eyes closed as he tried to guess what you're talking about. His eyes popped out then, figuring out that you had found out about the lab stuff, and his arm hugged the blanket a bit tighter. - “You do?” - Hopper mumbled, his voice cracking a bit.

“Obviously. I feel like there is something weird every time I get back to Hawkins, like, you know, there’s something different. Almost… Almost as if you and El are keeping some secrets and other things away from me. Did you know anything about that?” - A clear amusement could be heard in your voice, which made his testicles crawl back inside of his belly. Was he about to be bitched down as a fourth-grader who came home late? Were you about to turn into a furious, yelling, plate-throwing demon he was used to? - “Do I know about what, exactly?” - The man asked as he watched your body laying down next to him, cuddling to him in the ice-cold late November night.

“You didn’t see that? El and Mike? You hadn’t noticed?” - You giggled, turning your head at him, smiling. Hopper could feel the damn relief falling off of his back. It was just El and Mike… Well. It was his daughter and that little Wheeler bastard you were talking about. That was when his eyebrow got a spasm.

“Oh, come on, don’t be a jackass. First love is the most beautiful one, James.” - Your laughter could be heard when you watched Hopper having a facial expression of rock. His hand was thrown over your waist, yet his body was ridiculously tensed. - “Hopper, stop this, don’t act like a fucking idiot. She is our princess, yes, but this would come over the time either way. And I like this Mike Wheeler. I know him since the day he was born, he’s a good kid.”

With that, Hopper shoved his face into the pillow, grunting annoyedly at you supporting Eleven’s damn choice. This battle was lost even before it started - he knew that he could go against you and your opinion, theoretically speaking, but you would pull out such arguments that it would make him sit on his damn ass. - “I’m with these two together way more than you. I know how Mike acts around her and I know he’s damn sweet to her. Let it be Hopper.” - You whispered to his ear before you slowly brushed your fingers under his t-shirt. Yes. This argument and battle were lost long before it even started.

The life went on, how much more could you possibly say? You went to work, studied in your free time, took care of Eleven, her friends and Hopper - the life in its entirety has never been better when you thought about it. Eleven was properly happy for the first time in forever and you couldn’t be happier about that.

It was a week after December started - and a week remaining to Snow Ball. Early Christmas, Hopper called it jokingly, but he was right. When he came home that day, you hadn’t expected him to be there that soon. You were pleasantly surprised because you and the kids were just in the half of a karaoke marathon and you were just staying Ghostbusters with a small help from Will the Wise himself. Hopper watched you with an amused smile - there was something magical about watching you work with children; whether it was studying with El or making dumb things with the whole gang, you always made it fun for both sides.

Last time he came in and you were just doing stuff, you played D&D. And oh my, you were just lost - visibly lost at what the hell was happening. Mike and Lucas helped you with building a character and you even got pretty far into the story, with the help of the boys, of course, but you still didn’t have any idea about what the goddamn hell is going on. You only knew that some kind of Minotaur had sliced you in half and just like that, you were dead and out of the whole story.

So this time, seeing you slaying Ray Parker’s song, that was a pleasure. And it was damn sweet when you repeated Who you gonna call? and the gang yelled back Ghostbusters! with lots of laughs as the melody slowly faded away.

“Would you mind if I steal Mr. Parker here for a minute or..?” - Hopper asked once the song ended.

“Only if Lucas and Dustin won’t cheat during Never Surrender. Mike, you’ll watch them and if they do cheat, points down.” - You said, a bit sad that you won’t see Dustin and Lucas chaotically yelling the romantic song. They were bickering about something, but you just walked to Hopper, smiling at them. - “Yada yada yada, can’t hear you. Do your best and don’t cheat or you’re out. I’m not playing games with karaoke.”

Hopper took you to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed even if you said it’s completely pointless. Only when you finally sat down and heard Corey Hart and Dustin in sync yelling the first verse, Hopper gave you a completely normal envelope. You smiled at him before taking it out of his hands. And boy, when you finally opened it, you were taken away, watching that piece of stamped paper in your fingers.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” - The man kneeling in front of you whispered, smoothing both your thighs. You started shaking with excitement. Your eyes were scanning the paper to see if it isn't fake. But it seemed to be real.

“Is… Is this… Are you for… Is it even real? Are you telling me..?” - You whispered, watching the adoption certificate of Jane Hopper, presumably Eleven, in your palms.

“You’re now officially a proud mom.” - Hopper smiled with tears in his damn eyes. It was so pleasurable to see you as happy as you were in that moment. You were crying like a baby, let’s face it, but you tried to contain yourself just because there was only a piece of cloth between you and a room full of teenagers.

This was something huge, something you thought you would never achieve. That piece of paper was saying that Eleven is yours and no-one could deny that. And the document was even official, which was just breathtaking. You cried along with Jim in the backroom for the next ten minutes before you walked into Lucas and Max performing Material Girl from Madonna. And Lucas was just slaying the whole text while Max performed the backup vocals.

Not an hour from that, while Hopper decided to read something, the moment you didn’t like came by - Steve Nanny McFee Harrington came to pick up the boys and Max to drive them home. But you weren’t quite done with the contest, so you walked into the cold evening and looked at him. That was a thing you haven’t done before. You haven’t spoken to Steve in almost a year, which was crazy to think of since he was a big part of your life before.

“Hey, wanna come in? It’s freezing out there!” - You called in the direction of the car, smiling at the boy. He watched you like a dear in the headlights, trying to make out if you’re making fun of him or not. But when your smile widened even more than before, he stopped the engine and walked to the cabin, hearing first notes of Runaway, Max's song of choice.

“Hi there.” - You whispered with a smile, looking at the boy. Steve seemed to be mature. You didn’t know why or how was that possible, but the boy in front of your eyes looked… Really like an adult.

“Yeah, h-hey.” - Steve got out of his lips before you closed the door after him. The kids waved at him before continuing with their little karaoke. You, without hesitation, prepared Steve some warm chocolate so he wouldn’t freeze. The cabin was warm enough, but that boy just seemed to be cold. - “Haven’t talked to you in a while… How… Are things?” - He asked awkwardly as he looked around the cabin.

There was Eleven’s drawing hanging on the fridge, a lot of her pictures, there were even pictures of her and her friends there - you especially loved the one where Dustin was pretending that he had rabies when you made them Hopper’s triple-decker extravaganza one evening. There were pictures of you and Hopper side by side, pictures when you were alone with El - like hugging her on the couch or cooking with her. It was obvious that you had a family life and that you’re happy with it. It felt strange to see his former best friend’s sister, and his past crush, to have such a life at such an age and to be happy with it.

“They’re going just great. A year ago, I wouldn’t ever think that I can have a life like this, yet, here we are. It’s kind of a miracle.” - You smiled, giving him the mug, making yourself one as well. - “How are you? You and Nance are still hitting it off?” - You smiled wickedly, but as soon as you could see his miserable face, you knew that you hit some soft spot in steve.

“No. I was, in fact, a terrible boyfriend and she started dating Jonathan Byers a month ago, they seem happy, tho. A terrible boyfriend, would you believe that? Just as you always told me.” - Steve turned the awkwardness into a joke, but you punched his shoulder with a giggle.

“I have never told you that you’d be a terrible boyfriend, Harrington. I just told that you and me? That wouldn’t work. And I told you a million times, again and again.” - You told him, looking him in the face with a smile on your lips, feeling a bit better around him each passing minute.

“Turned out I’m the best single mom Hawkins High basketball team had ever seen.” - Steve said proudly, which made you laugh again.

“Listen, dude, I love you and I always did. But not in the way you desperately wanted me to. You’re like a little brother to me - whatever happens, call me, we can hang out, talk things out, yeah?” - You offered him a sisterly hug and Steve accepted, smiling into your shoulder. - “Don’t you forget I’ve seen you running naked around our pool when you were small.” - You whispered, making him hug you even tighter.

He got over the crush some time ago, but the shock of you dating Hopper was just so huge, that he never brought himself to say hi to you when he met you in Hawkins. He couldn’t wave at you or look you straight in the face. It was just so hard - you were turning his offers down him for years at that point, but you fell in love with a total shit like James Hopper? That wasn’t fair.

But now, it felt just good and natural to hug you as a friend only. It didn’t feel pressured or weird. Steve started to see the value of a true friendship after he started hanging out with Dustin Henderson and his douche friends. And he could see why you and Hopper were making things work so well - when he looked at your mutual relationship without his jealousy, he could see why your bitching-down nature could hold a man like James grounded in reality and why his nature could make your head make fly in the skies.

“But we’ll sing karaoke now and we’ll show these teens how to slay a song hm?” - You asked, more like told him straight forward, and dragged him in front of the couch. Steve tried to resist with laughter, but in the next minute, you were yelling the text of Total Eclipse of the Heart into the hairbrushes like the whole mattered on this performance. Hopper was standing there, in the doorframe of the bedroom, watching as you made Steve laughter on many occasions when you just fucked the words up because you wanted to.

And for the first time, Jim wasn’t a bit jealous when it came to Steve - because no matter if the boy was a prick, they get to know each other during the second incident in Hawkins. And no matter how hard he tried to get under your skirt previously, that kid had a heart of gold. He just needed friends because, in reality, Steve was lonely. And it felt right when Hopper saw you two jamming to the song.

#jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things hopper #stranger things netflix #jim hopper stranger things #eleven stranger things #eleven ives #eleven hopper #eleven #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #steve harrington #will byers #max mayfield

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pluckyredhead · 4 years

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Daredevil 101: What Happened to Milla, Part 1

For the past while in Daredevil 101, Matt has been somewhat rockily married to a woman named Milla Donovan. Sharp-eyed readers may have noticed that Matt is no longer married in comics continuity. What happened?

*sigh* “To the Devil, His Due” and “Without Fear” happened, aka Daredevil v2 95-105 by Ed Brubaker and Michael Lark. Aka an absolutely interminable parade of pointless cruelty riddled with dangling plot threads and misogyny. Yes, the team that gave us the masterful “Devil in Cell Block D” has now gone off the rails so hard that Amtrak is still working on the repairs. (Sadly, their run never improves, so strap in, I guess.)

Now, Milla is not exactly my favorite character, but very few things in DD history make me madder than the way she was written off. It’s so clear that Brubaker wanted to fridge her but realized he couldn’t get away with a fifth dead Daredevil love interest, so he figured out a different “fate worse than death” (hoo boy we’ll have to unpack that in Part 2). No price is too high for a woman to pay if it means Matt Murdock suffers, amirite?

And with that tempting introduction (?), let’s get into it!

Content Warnings: Ableism, sexual assault and implied threats of sexual violence.

We begin with Melvin, who is in jail thanks to having attacked Matt back when he was blackmailed into doing so. Specifically, we begin with Melvin in a room with a bunch of dead bodies he swears up and down he isn’t responsible for.

Matt and Foggy and most especially Becky Blake believe him and take his case, but just a few days later it happens again - Melvin is found surrounded by dead bodies and claiming to have no memory of what happened but that he didn’t do it. The psych eval doesn’t go well, in that, well, he passes:

According to the doctor, this isn’t Melvin being taken over by his Gladiator personality or an actual second person stepping in - this is just Melvin himself killing people. Which for Melvin’s legal team (and friends) is the worst possible option, of course.

Meanwhile, Milla appears to have taken up therapy:

Aside from what this story does to Milla and Melvin, part of what makes it so bad is the structure. This was partially due to a couple of company-wide crossovers that we’ll see marching through the book in a little bit, but also just lots of things being set up and then dropped without going anywhere. Here we see Milla in therapy, which is never returned to or discussed. The sinister way this is framed makes it clear that the person she’s speaking to is the villain of the piece, but the fact that he met Milla at therapy is never revealed or mentioned at all. Later in the scene he says something about how he hasn’t told his wife that he’s in therapy but he should stop underestimating her, which is clearly meant to get under Milla’s skin in regards to her relationship with Matt, but that kind of subtle manipulation is too interesting for this story and leads absolutely nowhere. And of course we don’t get to actually see Milla talking to her therapist, which would require her to have an interior life.

Which means we have an entire scene that could have been replaced with a single panel of Milla bumping into someone on the street that would have had exactly the same effect on the plot. And the pacing problems only get worse from here, folks!

Anyway. The state decides to move Melvin, but he escapes his prison transport - and attacks Matt, who’s been keeping an ear on things:

Melvin kicks the crap out of Matt and escapes, but Matt realizes that there’s something wrong with Melvin - it may not be the Gladiator taking over, but this isn’t his friend, either.

The next day, Nelson and Murdock receive a surprise guest: Lily Lucca, who you may remember as she of the Karen-smelling perfume who aided and abetted in multiple murders and lured Matt into a confrontation with Vanessa Fisk:

As you’ll recall, the perfume Vanessa gave Lily to entrap Matt with makes her smell like every man’s fondest memory [INSERT GIANT EYEROLL HERE], which is why Foggy’s falling all over himself here. But now she has a problem: even though she’s not using the perfume anymore, she still smells like it, which means men are constantly creepily following her around, getting into fights over her, etc.

This is...sigh. There’s an aspect of “female character is punished for using her sexuality” here that makes me super uncomfortable. Certainly 90% of comic book villains have some kind of monkey’s paw in their backstory (“I tried to make a cool suit of armor and now I have robot tentacles!” “I tried to cryogenically freeze my dying wife and now I am really cold all the time!” etc.), but there’s a way in which it’s weaponized against certain types of female characters that’s deeply gendered and often kinda rape-y. (I got this vibe with Debbie and Micah Synn as well.) Lily wanted to control men through their desire to her? Well, now they might desire her so much they’ll assault her! That’ll show her! I guess. Ugh, it just grosses me out.

Anyway, Matt reluctantly agrees to help her, or more specifically have Dakota help her, since she won’t be affected by Lily’s scent the way he and Foggy will. Even with this caveat, when he meets Milla for dinner she does not like this:

I think we’re meant to be reading Milla as not being entirely rational about Lily because she’s so jealous of Karen’s memory and Lily reminds Matt of Karen, but she’s not wrong. I have no idea if we’re meant to read Matt as being sort of a douche in this scene but if my husband was like “Keep your voice down” and “Don’t be so hyperbolic” I would walk out of that fucking restaurant.

Or run, as the case may be:

Matt distracts Melvin so that Milla can get away (lotta Ms in this storyline), then somehow quick-changes to Daredevil for a fight. Melvin knocks him out and Matt wakes up handcuffed in the back of a police car:

The cops are arguing because it’s the middle of Civil War, which didn’t touch the Daredevil book very much but Matt was firmly on the anti-registration Team Cap side, unsurprisingly. As an unregistered superhero, just being out in a mask made him a criminal. (They don’t do anything with the fact that his secret identity was basically an open book at this point, which would have been interesting.)

Anyway, The Mysterious Voice Speaking On A Frequency Only Matt Can Hear gleefully tells him that he left his wallet at the restaurant, which has his home address, which means Melvin knows where to find Milla. Of course, Melvin was one of Matt’s bodyguards when his identity was first exposed and definitely already knew where he lived, but whatever.

Milla is, of course, wandering around the apartment in nothing but a bra and panties when Melvin shows up, because Daredevil artists apparently love putting her in her underwear to terrorize her and this is the last chance they’ll have to do it.

Melvin takes Milla up to the roof to wait for Matt. I’m including this exchange, where Milla tries to talk him down by appealing to his better nature, because it’s basically her last moment as herself. Reminding others of their better angels has always been one of her strengths, and she deserves to have that highlighted before...everything else.

Matt shows up. Melvin throws Milla off the roof:

Matt miraculously saves her and returns to fight Melvin, but Melvin has pretty much given up at this point and it’s all over but the crying. He’s bundled off to maximum security, and that’s...well, that’s the end of Melvin. This storyline came out in 2007, and this sweet, interesting character who has been around since the Silver Age has been unusable ever since. So thanks for that, Brubaker.

Matt’s furious, and determined to figure out who did this to Melvin:

“What did your sensei say about fighting angry?” always makes me laugh. Also, why would you ever suggest Matt follow Stick’s advice, Foggy, honestly.

(Foggy is A+++++ in this storyline and it makes me mad that I can’t even enjoy it because he’s just frantically trying to salvage a steaming pile of shit the whole time. Also given the overall ableism in this story I’m a little :/ that he basically takes over being the functional adult like Matt’s incapable of it.)

Matt runs into another dropped plot thread here because he gets on the trail of a street drug that makes people angry, which, like, how would Melvin have even gotten that in prison anyway, especially nonconsensually? Also, every other depiction of this drug shows it putting the user into a senseless rage, but Melvin sure was able to find his old lair, put on his Daredevil costume, track down Matt, and kidnap his wife when the plot required him to. How very Guardian Devil.

Anyway, Matt starts tracking the drug to its source. Meanwhile, Milla shows up at N&M:

Yeah, from here on out Milla is all tears and hysteria. Sigh.

Foggy decides to take her home, and Lily tags along, even though Foggy thinks that’s a REALLY REALLY bad idea because a) she's upsetting Milla, b) she fucks with Foggy’s head, and c) every dude in the subway is going to be all over her. But Lily insists, because she’s...manipulative? Genuinely feeling guilty and choosing the absolute worst way to fix that? Flimsy plot reasons? Let’s go with flimsy plot reasons.

While waiting for the train, Milla pretty much loses her shit at Lily, and also the world in general:

“I don’t know what I’ve done to you” is pretty rich, Lily. YOU LURED HER HUSBAND ON A MURDER CHASE ACROSS EUROPE.

Meanwhile, Dakota is still trying to figure out where Vanessa got Lily’s original perfume from - and Matt has followed the drug trail back to the Enforcers, a bunch of goofy-ass Silver Age villains we haven’t seen in decades. (They are specifically named the Ox, Fancy Dan, and Montana. They are ridiculous.) They clobber him and take him to their leader:

LARRY CRANSTON. MISTER FEAR. He made the perfume. He drove Melvin insane. And he’s the reason behind what happens next:

Lily lives. The random bystander does not. And when Matt, having been literally thrown out of the window and into the garbage by Mister Fear, returns home, Foggy is waiting for him:

Next Time: Milla is taken into custody, and Matt searches for a cure.

#daredevil #daredevil 101

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inkstaineddove · 4 years

Text

Renewal

Characters: Prussia, Austria; mentioned Germany and Russia

Summary: After the fall of the Berlin Wall, Roderich invited Gilbert to Vienna in an attempt to clear the other man's mind and provide him with an opportunity to get outside. They catch up, knocking the rust off their strange relationship after not seeing each other for years.

Vienna, 1989.

Gilbert looked around, shifting in his seat nervously and absentmindedly folding and re-folding the sleeves on his shirt. How he loathed Vienna, loathed it and this ridiculous castle. Roderich’s tastes had always been too luxurious for his liking, the home decorated to be an ostentatious display of wealth and filled with antique furniture. It made him so uncomfortable, afraid that he might sneeze and be forced into debt to repay the cost of whatever he ruined.

His host returned, placing two wine glasses down before them. "Why so anxious?" Roderich didn't have to be focused on Gilbert to feel the wave of unease rolling of him. It also didn't help that he could hear the incessant tapping of Gilbert's foot, a nervous habit he'd had for years. "I would've expected you to be relieved to be out of your own country. Are we no longer good enough for you here?" His voice lilted up at the end of the sentence, gently teasing his guest.

"I hate this city. The people here have always been so snobbish. Your home looks like a poor man's idea of a rich man. It always has, it's excessive." Prussia waved a hand in a noncommittal way. "It's....everything's a lot."

As he took a long sip of his wine, Austria sighed. "Are you done?" The Prussian nodded. "I figured it would be nice for you to travel again, now that you could. I didn't think me rushing to Berlin would do you any good. You need to see what you missed of the world." It was his roundabout way of saying it meant a lot that Gilbert would visit him first.

"It's strange though. When you're in a cage for so long, you get used to it. In a certain way it even becomes comforting. The isolation almost becomes welcome or that you feel you deserved it." Prussia's eyes were burning with an indescribable emotion when they locked with Austria's. There was a flesh of desperation in them, gone as quickly as it appeared. "I can't help feeling that, in some way, I deserved it for everything. Monsters belong to be imprisoned."

That broke something in Roderich. He felt his heart throb with sympathy. He forced himself to keep the eye contact, despite wanting to look away in fear of giving away too much. "You're not a monster. And if you are, then so am I." He smiled faintly, trying to make them both feel better in vain. "All you've ever been is a bit boorish, but that's not a criminal offense."

They drank in silence. Both had been more vulnerable with the other than they'd wished. It was still too new, viewing each other as confidants and uneasy friends instead of the enemy. It felt even worse to consider them on opposing sides now, not after they'd shared so much and fought against much worse. How could they think of each other as evil when they finally knew what true evil was? It would feel like a dismissal of everything. No, they'd have to learn to get used to rhythms of this new stage in their relationship and whatever it would bring.

Roderich passively observed Gilbert. He'd never seen the man so unsure of himself. Normally Gilbert's ego suffocated the whole room. He moved in a way that commanded attention, that challenged the world to consent to his will or face the consequences of disobedience. This was not the same man. His emotions were impossible to decipher, walled off in a place deep within. His eyes kept darting around as if he was searching for the nearest escape.

Gilbert reached for his glass of wine. Roderich snatched his wrist midair. "My God, Gilbert. What happened?" Scars crisscrossed Gilbert's skin. Most appeared to finally be disappearing for good, but many remained.

"Relax, I didn't cause them." Gilbert jerked his hand away, hiding it beneath the table. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about. It's better I took a few more beatings than the others." He gave a toothy smile, trying to bring some normalcy to everything. "You're the one who said it's always what I've been good for."

A dark emotion passed across Roderich's face. A sickly feeling crept into his stomach. "I may have said so, but I never acted on it in such a way." It wasn't unusual for him to be so furious in Gilbert's presence, but it was for it to be on Gilbert's behalf. "What a barbarian. Where's the humanity? To act with such cruel disregard for other's and their sufferings? What a big man, I'm trembling." He scoffed. "To think he was the boogeyman we were all so terrified of for all these years. To be so fearful of a coward is dishonorable."

Such strong sentiments were shocking. For once in his life, Gilbert didn't know quite what to say. Unworthiness overwhelmed him. He bowed his head, staring at his hands as they played with the lace ends of the tablecloth. "You don't have to pretend to care so much. I appreciate the invitation enough as it is. Save me your mock outrage."

"You think I'm pretending?"

"Did I stutter?" It was the most Gilbert-esque thing he'd said all day. In any other conversation, it would've been a revelation.

Roderich rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. How to get it through such a thick skull? "I understand that our relationship hasn't always been on the best of terms, to put it incredibly mildly. But you have to be a bigger idiot than I ever thought possible to not realize my feelings on you have changed." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Really, Gilbert, actually think about this. After my divorce, against every possible logical expectation, you were the only one to check on me. Not only once, you made a point of visiting every month to harass me and give me some semblance of normalcy. And you never mentioned whatever it was you were doing with Erzsébet! It was the most oddly comforting thing and, to my horror, I began looking forward to seeing you." He rolled his eyes. "Let's not even mention the last war. We were thick as thieves then, running off and getting into whatever mischief was necessary."

"You only worked with me then because you had to." Gilbert remained glum, but didn’t dare to look at Roderich squarely to prevent being proved wrong.

"Oh, please. Bavaria and Saxony shot down our offer, I could've done the same to you had I wanted to. But I didn't because I trusted your judgement and wanted in on your little scheme. And I don't regret that to this day, regardless of whatever the personal costs may have been." Roderich smiled and it reached his eyes. "Whenever I had the misfortune of meeting Iv-Russia," he stopped himself, refusing to use Russia's personal name out of principle. "I would hound him by constantly asking after you. How you're doing, were you holding up well, urging him to pass on messages to you from Ludwig and me. I would do the same on Erzsébet's behalf, but you were the focus. I had visions of you trying to be her savior and winding up in an even worse position."

Gilbert bit his lip, wearing an incredibly guilty look. "How did you guess?"

“Because I know you! Every time we'd sign a new treaty or agreement, you'd be begging me to make her life better. It got to the point where I was telling my advisors to throw in an expansion of Hungarian rights before we even began negotiations.” Roderich rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that behavior would've ceased, especially under rulers with a much crueler bent? Though I appreciate that it must surely make my monarchs look so kindly and benevolent.”

There was no point in even touching that last part. Especially when Austria would have ample examples of Hohenzollern excesses to throw in Prussia's face. Instead, he focused on how touched he felt over everything. Things really had changed for them, the tables had turned so completely. A warmth spread throughout Gilbert's chest. “I had no idea you asked about me.”

“I suspected you didn't. I have no idea why Russia would be so reluctant to pass on anything to you two. We weren't trying to spread Western propaganda, or whatever he would be concerned for. The only goal was to let you both know your family still loved and missed you gravely.”

“He wanted us to be one big, happy family. To do that, for some fucked up reason, he felt like he had to constantly tell us that no one on the outside cared in order to break us down. It really got to those who only had friends on the inside regardless of whatever Erzsi or I said to them.” Gilbert shrugged, nonchalantly. Out of everything that happened behind the wall, this facet concerned him least. Its effects on him had been minimal. He couldn't believe Ludwig, no matter the bad terms they parted on, would disown Gilbert and leave him to the wolves. The kid had always been loyal to a fault. “Wait, you missed me? And consider me family?”

The vein in Roderich's forehead began throbbing. “Why is this so difficult for you to understand?’ Grumbling, he hurried off and returned with a pen and piece of paper. “I'm going to make this very simple and I'm going to speak slowly so you understand. Look me in the eyes, if you misunderstand a word of this, I'm going to hit you." Once they made eye contact, Roderich continued. “Our relationship has changed, meaning things are different now. I regard you, Gilbert, as not only one of my closest friends, but as family. And not merely the most distant of cousins either, close family, the type of family you wish to spend time around and worry for when appropriate.” He quickly wrote something on the paper before sliding it over the table. "Here. Try carrying this around with you in case you forget again."

Gilbert picked it up. It read ‚Roderich und ich sind Familie.’ He folded it and tucked it into his wallet, unable to stop himself from smiling. Perhaps his existence wasn’t so pointless, perhaps there was some meaning to be gleaned from his life. "You're actually a good guy. A really good guy. I wish I'd realized it sooner." His heart felt so full it could burst.

It was Roderich's turn to be caught off-guard. He looked away, studying the Schwind that hung on the opposite wall. “‘Good’ is not a classification I would accept so willingly. At the risk of sounding too Catholic even for myself, we've all committed sin. I'm simply trying to learn from mine, even if it's a bit late in some cases.” His lips turned the slightest bit upward. “But I do appreciate the compliment.”

"You realized it sooner than everyone else we know." Gilbert sipped his wine, needing something to do with his hands. "Don't be so hard on yourself. That has to count for something." A coy smile slipped through. "Besides, I know you hid people in your homes throughout the war. You shouldn't look so surprised; you were always asking me to help you stock up on food and clothes and you suddenly had new servants here. What other explanation could there have been?"

Despite all the time that had passed, the acknowledgement of his deed caused Roderich's heart to race. The instinctual fear at getting caught took over, regardless of there being an absence of authorities who would arrest him for it. "Well, I knew many of the upcoming Viennese artists and musicians then. It seemed...such a waste of incredible talent and life." He paused, the memories coming in vivid technicolor. "Anyone would've done the same."

"You know that's not true."

There was a point there. "I wanted to at least sound humble, regardless of whether it reflected reality accurately." He folded his hands in his lap. This was something he'd never discussed before; it was a secret he'd kept close to his heart first out of a survival instinct and later out of a desire to not be viewed in a heroic light. "You yourself noted how my last name could be perceived, as had various Jewish communities here. Over the years I'd warmed up to them and begun to count many of them as friends, those especially who easily shrugged off or accepted the nature of our existence. To turn on them in their greatest hour of need seemed to me to be beyond reprehensible. I had grown close to many of them, been invited into their homes, to witness their births, deaths, and marriages. You'll understand more than anyone else that, for my own peace of mind, I had to do what was right."

Gilbert had listened in silence. The coy little smirk never left his face. “The ice king does have a heart.” At Roderich's bewildered expression, Gilbert barked out a laugh. “Relax! I'm only kidding! You're looking at me as if I just shot your dog!” He wiped a wayward tear out the corner of his eye. “What can I say? I'm not surprised by any of this. Despite your best efforts, you're not heartless. A couple centuries ago, I could see you ignoring everything and letting the chips fall where they may, but not now. You figured out that having a little humanity isn't so bad.”

Now, that was insulting. Roderich harrumphed. “You say it’s a joke, but must you make me sound like a being incapable of the most basic of emotions?” He folded his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes in the process. Oddly enough, the prickle of irritation felt comforting. Over Gilbert’s long absence, Roderich had naturally felt annoyed at others plenty of times. But being aggrieved over America’s brashness or Arthur’s arrogance or Francis’ smugness didn’t feel quite the same. Being irritated at Gilbert came as easily as breathing air, felt like the comfort of sheets against you at night. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it till this very moment.

Apparently, his face was giving it away. “What are you staring at me like that for?” Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did I suddenly grow a third eye or something?”

“‘Or something’ for sure.” The corners of Roderich’s lips softened into an easy smile. “It’s nice to have you home, that’s all. It seems I really did miss you.”

Gilbert grinned, his most natural one yet of the evening. “I’m back forever now. There’s no more getting rid of me. From now on, you’ll be stuck with me till the end of eternity.”

“Threatening me so soon?” Roderich brought his wine glass to his lips, smiling. Against all odds, he was looking forward to the rest of eternity.

#aph prussia #aph austria #hws prussia #hws austria #hetalia #Axis Powers Hetalia #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #hws fanfiction #aph fanfiction #hws fanfic #aph fanfic

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