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mythologyfolklore · 4 years ago

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Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 09

Chapter Nine: The Trojan War, Pt. 01

(A/N: This is basically the Iliad, but from the gods' POV. The gods meddling with human affairs, just as they please and Zeus being a puppet master for funsies, because he's Zeus.

If my writing looks a bit differently at some parts, it's because I transcribed them from my German edition translation of the Iliad. Now, the Iliad is one monster of a book. So I'm cutting this chapter into several parts. But I altered or completely skipped a few parts from the epic, so if you discover inaccuracies and books missing, know that this is absolutely intentional.)

“Mēnin áeide, theá, Peleïádeo Akhilēos

ouloménen, hé myrí' Akhaioīs álge étheken …”¹

Athena still didn't know why not being picked as the fairest offended her so.

Maybe being thought of as beautiful was more important to her, than she had thought.

Anyhow, she could not deny, that she was slightly butthurt. Not as much as Hera, but she was still furious.

She had offered wisdom and victory, Hera had offered power.

And Paris had picked Aphrodite, because she had offered him the most beautiful woman in the world?! Really?

And to top it off, the woman in question was Helena of Sparta, married to none other than Menélaos, a volatile Mycenaean², who had become king of Sparta through their marriage!

She also happened to be subject of a treaty her father had made with her suitors, before she had chosen Menélaos as her husband: that those rejected would come to the aid of the successful one, should he ever be in a troublesome situation.

And what a troubled situation it was, because Paris had freaking abducted Helena with Aphrodite's help!

Indeed, that guy's stupidity knew no bounds!

So here the mortal men were – rallying the entirety of Hellas, because of that damn treaty! Among them were great men like brave Diomedes, cunning Odysseus (a favourite of Athena's), Menélaos' brother Agamemnon and, last but not least, great Akhilleus and his soulmate Patroklos.

Also, that old bitch Agamemnon had managed to offend several gods and mortals by … well, being his bitchy arsehole self …

Book One:

Apollon was minding his own business, when suddenly a prayer reached his ears.

A prayer full of anguish and despair, from a voice he knew: that of his priest Khrýses.

The god of oracles sighed and listened to what his priest had to say.

“Hear me, God of the Silver Bow, who stands over Khryse and holy Killa, who rules mightily over Ténedos, Smintheus³, if the roof I gave to your temple and my sacrifices ever pleased you, fulfil my prayer: let the Danaoi⁴ pay for my tears with your arrows!”

Apollon closed his eyes and used his gift of clairvoyance to get a full picture of what had happened.

But once he knew everything, he was seized by fury.

“Alright, motherfuckers!”, he growled, as he grabbed his bow and arrows and descended to earth, nearby their camp.

“Face the wrath of Ioímios⁵!”

Then he proceeded to rain down every single contagious disease he had at his disposal, for nine days straight.

Hera was raging and cursing Thetis and Akhilles, but mostly Thetis: the Nereid had persuaded Zeus to support the Trojans, because her son had asked her to.

Yep, Akhilles had requested that the Trojans should have the upper hand, lest Agamemnon finally would get his bitchy arse up and apologise to him properly.

Now the most powerful warrior of the entire army was brooding in his tent like … what was that mortal dish again? Oh yeah, a burrito. An overgrown, sulky blanket burrito. Who had completely withdrawn from battle with all of his troops, because screw Agamemnon.

Of course, no one liked Agamemnon, but this was ridiculous.

Book Two:

Meanwhile the Trojans, with their prince Hektor and Zeus' good will on their side, easily held their own and more than often threatened to gain decisive victories.

And to add insult to injury, her son Ares, who had promised to support her and Athena against the Trojans, had let Aphrodite get into his head and was now opposing them, like the turncoat he was!

Both Hera and Athena were furious at this development, but Zeus had not allowed them to interfere – yet.

“You know”, Athena grumbled, as the two goddesses looked down onto the battlefield, “If father let me, I would love to drive a spear into Ares' gut!”

“You and me both”, Hera huffed. “Just where did I go wrong in his educati- not a word, Athena”, she warned, when the goddess of wisdom opened her mouth to reply.

“Anyway”, the Queen continued, “We have to obey Zeus' decree, especially now; as you can see, he's in a bad mood.” And pointed to the dark clouds above them.

“Also, Athena – I think you might want to go down there; they all seem to want to cut and run, there is a riot.”

Athena lost no time in dashing down there and urging her mortal friend Odysseus to interfere.

It wasn't long, until he and old Nestor had re-established order.

Book Three:

Some sacrifices and one breakfast later, the Achaeans and the Trojans were duking it out on the battlefield, when Athena and Hera spied Menélaos coming close to Paris.

Latter apparently saw the Spartan king first and promptly ran off like a total wuss.

This made Hera cackle hysterically: this boy had had no qualms risking both her and Athena's wrath, abducting a married woman out of her own home, offending the entirety of Hellas in the process, and now, that her actual husband Menélaos was showing up, he was running away like a wimp?! Pathetic!

Just a few hours later, Paris changed his mind, but not before he got smack-talked by his brother Hektor for being a huge wimp.

Of course Menélaos kicked his arse, but before he could finish him off and end the war for good, Aphrodite showed up! Whisking away her favourite like the bitch she was!

Hera fumed, but resisted the urge to beat her to a pulp.

“Don't worry”, Athena comforted her, “Sooner or later, she'll get her arse handed to her. I already have my plans – and the means to execute them.”

“As always”, the Queen remarked, with a hint of amusement and fondness.

Meanwhile Menélaos was still on the battlefield, outraged beyond mortal comprehension and roaring for Paris to “COME BACK AND DIE LIKE A MAN!!!”

Anyhow he had won, his brother Agamemnon decided and demanded that Helena be given back, financial reparations included.

Even most of the Trojans agreed, that Helena should be given back.

But Paris insisted, that she was his wife (except that she wasn't) and he wouldn't give her up.

Book Four:

The Olympians were having lunch in their dining hall, drinking nectar and toasting to each other, while Hebe was filling their cups.

But Zeus, ever the son of cunning Kronos, was plotting.

Finally he rose and spoke with sharpest tongue:

“Among the goddesses Menélaos only has two supporters: my queen Hera, who is the patron of Argos, and my daughter Athena, who holds her hand over Boiotia. Yet both just sit here, while Aphrodite is having a field day dwelling with Paris and doing as she pleases. Did she not just save him from certain death? Menélaos has won, yes. But now we need to hold counsel about how we will proceed now; shall we bring on more bloody war or shall we finally let gentle Eirene end the suffering? Granted your approval, it would mean, that Priamos' city will remain habitable and Menélaos finally can take his Helena back home to Sparta.”

Hera and Athena stuck their heads together, whispering and plotting more bale for the Trojans.

However, Athena was sensible enough to bite her tongue towards her father.

Hera on the other hand jumped up and ranted furiously: “Zeus, what the heck?! I have worked my arse off, just to put up a fleet against Ilios, and now this shall all have been in vain?! Do whatever you want, but don't expect any of us to approve of it!”

“Shut it!”, Zeus barked, “What is your problem? Why are you so bent on obliterating this beautiful city completely! What did the Trojans ever do to you for you to be so obsessed with this?! Will your blood thirst only be quenched, when you can march through the gates of Troy to incinerate its inhabitants with your own hands?! Do what you must, but heed this; should I ever feel like destroying one of the cities you hold dear, do not get into my way. Let me do as I please, as I do for you, even though I do not like it. The Trojans have never failed to honour the gods as it is due; my altars were never void of the best sacrifices and presents my worshippers had to offer.”

Hera inhaled sharply, but returned: “My dearest cities are Argos, Sparta and Mycenae. Should any of them ever invoke your wrath, destroy them if you want. I couldn't stop you, if I tried – you are the strongest here. Still, my efforts should not be in vain. I am divine like you, we have the same parents and yet I'm the first of the goddesses, because you chose me to be your queen. So we should be in agreement, even if it's just for the sake of being role models to the rest of the gods. Do you not agree, my great and most beloved husband? Thus, we should send Athena down to tempt the Trojans into breaking the truce they made with the Achaeans. What do you say?”

Zeus chuckled at this response, but nodded his head towards Athena.

The goddess of wisdom jumped up eagerly and rushed down like a comet.

A Trojan archer shot at Menélaos, barely missing a critical body part (thanks to Athena's intervention) and the oath of peace was broken.

Soon the two sides were back at each other's throats again.

Back on Olympos, Zeus rose from the table, and retreated to the Room of Fate.

There stood a huge pair of golden scales – the Scales of Fate, gifted to him by great Ananke, the Protogenos of fate and necessity.

Zeus had not agreed to the destruction of Ilios out of favour.

It was the fate of Troy and many more warriors, that they should fall.

It was a hard choice to make; many of the people who would fall were in his personal favour and some even were his dear children.

But he was the King of the Gods.

And as such, sparing someone out of favouritism was not an option.

Meanwhile the Scales of Fate were swinging up and down, towards the Achaeans, then towards the Trojans, then back and back again …

Book Five:

As Athena was rushing about the army, spurring on the warriors, she was also looking for her half-brother Ares. His influence on the mortal fighters was hindering her work.

Oh, there he was – personally slaying Achaeans left and right and generally being his bloodthirsty, mass-murdering self.

She snuck up on him, but he noticed her before she could startle him.

Athena ignored the spear to her face and said: “Hi to you too, brother.”

“For fuck's sake, what do you want?”, Ares spat.

“For you to retreat, Brotoloigos⁶, before father gets angry.”

“You're lying. He didn't send you”, he remarked.

Athena huffed: “Alright, if you want to be like that …”

Then she promptly grabbed him, threw him over her shoulder, carried him off like this (despite his very vocal protest) and dumped him onto a rock nearby the river Skamandros.

“Father will decide over the victory. You stay here, or else!”, she warned.

Then she went back, while Ares gawked after her, wondering what the heck just had happened.

Athena heard a prayer and quickly found Diomedes. He had just been wounded and was now praying for her assistance in avenging himself.

She poured courage and strength over him and also manipulated his sight.

“Now that you can tell gods and humans apart”, she whispered into his ear, “Remember this; do not fight the gods, you don't stand a chance – unless it's Aphrodite; she's a wimpy bitch.”

Diomedes, now powered up and high on adrenaline, immediately rushed back into battle and began to massacre Trojans left and right, as if he was Ares in disguise.

He quickly found the Trojan archer who had shot him in the shoulder and killed him.

His companion, a Trojan nobleman named Aineías, jumped off his chariot to defend the corpse of his fallen comrade, but Diomedes quickly grabbed a huge stone and knocked him out.

Aphrodite, who was Aineías' mother, saw this and came to rescue her son.

However, Diomedes decided (much to Athena's sadistic pleasure), that he'd have none of that and promptly chucked a spear at the goddess of love. It hit her wrist, tore through the skin and Ikhor splat everywhere. She screamed in shock, terror and pain like a little bitch (seriously, it was just a cut!), dropped her son and fled, followed by the taunting of her injurer.

Apollon came to Aineías' rescue instead and caught him, before he could hit the ground. When Diomedes – blinded by battle frenzy – began to attack him too, Apollon lost his patience and began to glow ominously.

“Back off, mortal! You are delusional, if you believe, that you can hold your own against me!”

Diomedes did the wise thing and obeyed.

Meanwhile Aphrodite was searching the field in panic, until someone seized her by the hand: Iris, the messenger of Hera, had taken pity on her and was now leading her away from the turmoil.

“Calm down, Aphrodite”, the goddess of the rainbow tried to soothe her, “Look, there is Ares!”

The goddess of love promptly rushed over to her lover, who was basically just chilling at the banks of the river Skamandros.

Ares was startled, when he was tackled by a hysterical love goddess.

“Whoa! Aphrodite?! What happened, why are you-?”

In tears she told him what had happened.

He scowled, but kept his composure. “Let me see the wound.”

When she did, he blinked. “Aphrodite, you kicked arse in the Gigantomakhia and now you're freaking out over a scratch? Alright, alright, I'm sorry”, he apologised, when she glared tearfully.

“Just give me your chariot!”, she wailed, “I want to go home as quickly as possible!”

“Sure”, he consented and kissed her forehead.

“And my son – my son!”

“Don't worry, Apollon's got him. See?”

She sobbed in relief, when she spotted Apollon carrying Aineías away to safety.

Then she mounted Ares' war chariot and Iris drove her back to Olympos.

When she got there, she was healed by Apollon's son Asklepios, who gave her kind words of comfort.⁷

But just a few minutes later, Athena and Hera returned from the battlefield and promptly proceeded to mock her relentlessly.

“If you don't mind, my dear father”, Athena said innocently, “Surely Aphrodite has been doing that thing again, where she tempted a Greek woman to run after a Trojan and cut her hand on the needle of a brooch, when she fixed the woman's dress!”

Hera cackled hysterically and Zeus chuckled in amusement.

“Good to see you all have so much fun at my expense!”, Aphrodite spat.

“Hey, you do it all the time, it's time we get a good laugh too!”, Hera retorted.

Zeus finally stopped snickering and put a hand on Aphrodite's shoulder. “Now, now, my dear aunt. You're simply past the time of your life, when you could kill a giant with one swing of your blade. Your sword has grown dusty and your battle prowess is in the past. We have two professional war deities and many others who have a function in war, myself included. You on the other hand have a far fairer profession: the works of love and marriage.”

Meanwhile, Apollon had brought the unconscious Trojan nobleman to his temple, where his mother Leto and Artemis tended to his wounds.

Okay, now where is Ares – oh for fuck's sake, is he still sitting there like a moron?!

Apollon huffed and marched over to the river, where Ares indeed was still lounging, as if there wasn't relentless slaughter going on.

“Ares!”, he snapped, making the older god jump. “Get your lazy arse up and rid the battlefield of that madman Diomedes! He hurt Aphrodite at the wrist, attacked even me and at this point it wouldn't surprise me, if he took on our father Zeus as well! That man is hardly human, he fights with the strength of a Daimon! He is dangerous! You're the god of terrible war! Stop him!”

“Alright, alright, I'm on it!”, Ares grumbled defensively, “Get off my dick, will ya?!”

Apollon responded maturely, by sticking his tongue at him, ere he returned to his temple.

Ares teleported himself onto a wall, taking the shape of a Thracian ruler he favoured.

With fiery words, he stirred up the fighting spirit of the Trojans and their allies.

With renewed vigour they threw themselves into battle, although their opponents held them back with united strength.

He decided to help them a little more and held his hand above the Trojans. Darkness came over the plain and Aineías rejoined the fray, which significantly boosted the morale of the Trojans.

Still they couldn't seem to break through; the Achaeans stood like a wall.

Damn , they really need my help! Somehow this must be the fault of Daddy's Owl … but where is she? Eh, who cares!

He decided to get back to what he had been doing before Athena had interfered.

Nearby were his twin-sister Enyo and his best friend Eris, sowing more belligerence and strife and riling up the mortals.

Oh, there was Hektor. He had come to aid his people and was slaying Achaeans left and right.

Ares laughed heartily and joined the Trojan hero.

On Olympos, Hera addressed Athena: “Athena, we need to do something! We promised Menélaos, that he could return to Sparta once he conquered Troy and took his wife Helena back, but my son and Hektor are about to ruin everything! It's time to go to war.”

Athena nodded grimly and while Hera ordered her daughter Hebe to ready her war chariot, she donned her armour and that of her father. Armed with her spear and her father's Aigis, which bore the horrid face of the Gorgon, she jumped onto the chariot with Hera.

Sometimes Athena nearly forgot Hera's war-ridden past, but as the Queen of the Gods came, in armour from head to toe and a long, heavy spear in one and the reins of her horses in the other hand, she was reminded, that Hera was a warrior at the core.

The Queen of the Skies spurred on her horses and the Horai tore the Gates of Olympos open to make way.

But then Hera spied Zeus, just lounging on a cloud and being his smug and very neutral self.

She held her horses and spoke to her husband: “Zeus! Ares is wreaking havoc down there. Doesn't it irritate you too, that he is slaying the best Achaeans down there, while Aphrodite and Apollon, who let him loose, are having a blast? Allow me to put an end to our son's murder spree and to give him a good beating!”

Zeus laughed heartily: “Go on, my dear wife! And sic Athena on him; she has experience in punishing him and as I see, in plundering too.”

Athena just grinned cheekily.

With Zeus approval secured, Hera's chariot descended to earth quicker than lightning. The two goddesses had joined the ranks of the Achaeans.

While Hera spurred them on with sharp and fiery words, Athena approached Diomedes.

The man had sat down to nurse the wound, which had been inflicted on him earlier and was now inflamed to the point where the pain was crippling his arm.

“What is this?!”, she demanded to know, “Some fine son Tydeus got himself there! I remember him so well; he was small in frame, but one of the greatest warriors I have ever known. You on the other hand! Ha! Were you half the man he was, you would be fighting the Trojans!”

Diomedes got defensive and reminded her, that she had told him not to attack any gods apart from Aphrodite. “Ares himself is leading the Trojans in battle. It's only because of your instructions that I made my troops draw back.”

Athena smirked, grabbed his face and her bright blue eyes were blazing with pugnacity and fire.

It was a testimony to the man's boundless bravery and faith in her, that he didn't even tremble, that her burning gaze didn't fill him with fear, though he knew exactly who was speaking to him.

“Yes, now I see him in you!”, she exclaimed, “You really are the son of your father! Fear not Ares or any of the other immortals, as long as I am with you. Once this sadistic madman promised his mother Hera and me to support the Achaeans. Now look at him helping the Trojans! He really needs a reality check. And …”, her smirk widened. “ … who could give it better than you?”

They mounted his chariot and rode into battle.

Athena knew, that to Diomedes Ares had to be horrifying; even to the other Olympians the blood-stained, untameable and murderous god of terrible war was a frightening sight to behold.

But as she had said before, the Argive had nothing to fear with her by his side.

Ares was busy robbing the corpse of someone he had just murdered. However, as he spied a shiny golden helmet, that could only belong to one person (Diomedes of Argos), he instantly dropped the corpse and dashed through the fray, his face a bloodthirsty grimace.

With a well-aimed throw, his spear flew towards the mortal, but … it missed?!

What the- how is that possible?! How?! How did I miss? I never miss!

Ares opted to use his second sight. This way he could sense a divine presence next to the mortal he wanted to kill.

“Daddy's Owl. I should have known it's you …”, he growled under his breath.

ARES, WATCH OUT!

What?

Diomedes' own spear flew and hit its target.

Ares' eyes widened.

The weapon had pierced clean through his stomach.

For a second Ares was too shocked to even register the pain.

Then Diomedes pulled his spear back out and it hit full force.

He screamed.

An unholy, rough and piercing roar, as if ten thousand men were screaming out of one throat.

It was so loud and so terrifying, that the warring mortals forgot what they were doing and clung to each other in fear and panic.

“You will pay!”, he choked and glared at the spot where he knew Athena's eyes to be. “You fucking bitch! You will pay!”

He summoned a whirlwind to carry him up into the sky and dragged himself all the way back to Olympos and into Zeus' throne room.

“Why is it”, he growled, as he showed his father the spear wound, “That everyone has to obey your command, while your daughter Athena can do whatever she wants?! While apparently I am not even allowed to do my fucking job?! She plays with all of us as she pleases – ngh! – and now she has sicced that arrogant fucker Diomedes on her fellow gods! That bastard sliced Aphrodite's hand open, assaulted Apollon and now this – ow, fuck! Had I not bailed, I would be lying under a pile of corpses or worse, be crippled – no offence, Hephaistos …”

“Some taken”, the smith replied drily.

Ares continued his rant: “And you, Zeus, just sit and watch, while she has the time of her life, pushing everyone else around! For the sake of your other children, for your whole family, dial it back with the favouritism and control her!”

But Zeus just replied scornfully: “Oh stop whining into my ears, you double-faced liar! Of all the gods that dwell here on Olympos, I despise you most. You have nothing but strife and bloodshed in your head, you're always looking for trouble – you got that from your mother. Were you not my son, I would have sent you to Tartaros a long time ago.”

“If I am the way I am”, Ares retorted coldly, “It's not because of the way my mother raised me, but it's because you didn't raise me any better – in fact, I don't remember you raising me at all. Also, I hate you too. I hate you so much.”

Zeus was visibly struggling to keep his composure (if the dark clouds outside hadn't made it obvious, his tense, stony face did), but only inhaled sharply and ordered for Asklepios to treat his son's injuries.

“I'm sorry for that”, the doctor later said, as he was applying healing salve to Ares' wound.

The war god's red eyes shifted to him. “What do you mean?”

His mien and tone were blank, but Asklepios could tell, that his uncle knew what he meant.

“What … what Zeus said earlier. I heard it all.”

“Spare me your pity, nephew”, Ares said coldly.

“What I feel for you isn't pity”, Asklepios contradicted. “Don't mistake compassion for pity. I too have suffered the wrath of Zeus; he killed me with a thunderbolt, back when I was a mortal and deified me only for my father's sake. But that happened quickly and only once. I do not like you, Ares, but no one deserves that kind of treatment.”

Ares chuckled wryly and (much to Asklepios' surprise) ruffled the doctor's blond head.

“You're a good kid. But don't waste your compassion on me”, the older god advised. “I don't need it. It has been this way for 38 000 years (that's how old I am) and it means nothing to me.”

Asklepios had the feeling, that the war god wasn't being completely honest, but he knew better than talking back to Ares.

“There”, he said instead, as the older man's injuries were closing. “Now a nice bath and some fresh clothing and you'll be as good as new. Shall I apply a salve to make the scar disappear?”

“No”, Ares chuckled, “It's just another scar in my collection. I don't mind it as much as I mind some of the others.”

When Hera and Athena came home a little later, they found Ares standing near Zeus' throne.

He had been perfectly patched up, was wearing fresh clothes and bore himself with an odd dignity.

Athena immediately realised, that he was attempting to keep his last shred of pride, with his perfectly blank and indifferent expression and aloof posture.

But when he looked up and saw her, his facade slipped just for a second.

His red eyes burned with unadulterated loathing, as they met her blue ones.

She responded with a similar glare, before resuming her own position at her father's side.

Book Seven:

Right after the gods had left the battlefield, Hektor and Paris joined their fellow Trojans and began to slaughter enemies left and right.

Apollon was watching them invisibly from the city walls, always the victory of the Trojans in his mind.

But when he saw Athena dash down from the sky with obvious intentions, he flew across the field to catch her.

“Are you meddling yet again?!”, he reproached her, “What is this, the fifth time today?! Look, I know you don't give a shit, that all those good Trojans are dying, but for once, can you just not?! Let us end the senseless bloodshed for today. Tomorrow is another day and surely you can't be in this much of a hurry to lay this great city to waste, can you?!”

Athena countered: “Actually, that was what I had in mind, when I came just now. But how do you plan to achieve a duel, Hekatos⁸?”

“Hektor”, Apollon replied coolly. “He's easy to persuade. A duel, one on one, a battle to the death. And if he demands one, it will compel the Achaeans to choose one out of their ranks to fight him.”

Athena had no objections to that.

So the god of prophecy sent a vision to Helenos, one of Hektor's brothers, to let him know the gods' intentions.

Not much later, Hektor was challenging the Achaeans to chose one of their ranks to fight him. His condition was that the loser's armour should go to the victor, but the corpse should be returned to their respective side.

The Achaeans were hesitant.

Finally Menélaos, revolted by everyone's cowardice, stepped forward, but was stopped by his brother Agamemnon, who warned him that there was no way he could win against Hektor.

Then the old king Nestor roasted everyone and several, grabbed by their honour, volunteered.

They drew lots and Ajax the Greater was chosen.

After a more or less respectful address, the two warriors began to duke it out.

Ajax quickly proved himself to be Hektor's equal.

Their combat was so vicious, that Apollon interfered and helped the Trojan prince up.

Then the two mortals forgot about their spears and shields and began a mortal sword fight.

Until two heralds stepped in and drew them apart.

“Enough!”, one of them spoke, “Let it be. Zeus favours you both equally. You have proven to him and us, what exceptional warriors you are. But cease it now. It's growing dark and it's better to call it a night.”

The opponents agreed to do that, complimented each other's battle prowess and exchanged gifts.

Apollon couldn't help but find it wonderful, how these two enemies set an example by respecting each other, both as warriors and people.

Meanwhile, several Trojans demanded, that Helene be given back to the Achaeans and many agreed.

Unfortunately, Paris refused to give her back, insisting that she was his wife now (even though she really wasn't), although he did offer to give back her treasure.

Priamos sighed and send a messenger to the Achaeans to let them know of it and ask for permission to bury their dead.

Of course they refused the offer of the treasures, but they agreed to stop all fighting, until the fallen warriors on both sides had been buried properly.

On Olympos, Poseidon had complaints.

The Achaeans had built a wall around their camps and now the Lord of the Seas was bothered by it being built without any sacrifices to him and that the wall he and Apollon once had built around Ilios would be forgot.

Zeus pinched his nose and spat: “Oh, for the love of me, do you have nothing else to worry about?! You can destroy that thing once the war is over and the Achaeans are gone, but now stop whining to me about it!”

Once their argument was settled, the King of the Gods retreated to his study and proceeded to spend the rest of the night plotting bale and doom for the warring people on earth.

Shortly after midnight a knock on the door pulled him from his plotting.

“Enter!”, he cried.

The door opened to reveal …

“Ares!” Zeus stood up. “What a surprise! It's been more than a century since you came to my office of your own volition! Do come in!”

Ares looked uncharacteristically modest, as he came in, which was even more surprising.

“My dear father”, he began, “I wish to apologise for earlier. And, if you will, discuss a few things with you?”

Zeus' interest was piqued.

“I'm all ears, my son and heir.”

Their conversation was short and almost business-like.

But at the end the King of the gods was laughing heartily: “Sometimes I forget just how much of me and your mother you have in you! Oh, if the others knew just how underhanded you can be in your spite, they would see you differently. Yet you're right with what you say and I see no harm in humouring you for a change. Your idea is a good one. Go to bed now, my son, and rest secure in the knowledge, that for once in your life, you beat your half-sister at her own game.”

Book Eight:

In the next morning, Zeus gathered his family in the assembly hall.

“From now on, I alone will guide the course of war on earth”, he announced. “None of you is allowed to interfere. No one. If you do, I will roast you with a thunderbolt. As you are gods, you won't be reduced to ashes, but Ares here can confirm, that the results are still really nasty.”

At these words, Ares, who was standing next to Zeus' throne, pushed back the bangs that were covering the left side of his face, revealing the hideous scar they were hiding. The sight made several of the attendants gasp.

Zeus went on: “As you can see, he still has that one, because not even Asklepios' healing arts would rid one of that kind of scar. And my thunderbolt just grazed him, so he was lucky. Imagine, what would happen to you, if I hit you full on. Or even better yet, I will throw you into Tartaros, if you disobey me. I'm sure my brother's face will be priceless, once I leave you to him.”

Everyone was gaping at him, speechless over those straightforward threats.

Athena was the first one to regain her speech.

“Dear father”, she began with a shaky voice, “We know that you are the strongest. If you wish, we won't interfere with the battle. But won't you at least allow us to give counsel? Hera, Poseidon and I can't help but pity the poor fighters, who have to deal with their imminent demise as best as they can. Won't you allow us to try and spare some in this manner?”

Zeus laughed, but quickly resumed his stern demeanour.

“This is as far as you all may go”, he accommodated. “Even you, my little Owl-Eye, will be punished, if you go against my orders.”

Athena bit her lip, but nodded.

Right after the assembly was ended, Zeus descended to earth to supervise the happenings down there.

Athena used the opportunity to go after Ares.

Barely holding back her anger, she followed him into a lone hallway and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“This is your doing, isn't it?”, she hissed.

Oh so slowly Ares turned around to face her. His butter-wouldn't-melt expression made her want to wring his neck.

“My dear sister”, he cooed, “I haven't the faintest idea what yer talkin' about!”

“Don't play that game with me!”, she snarled, “You put it into his head to force us to sit here and kick our heels like complete idiots, so he can hog the entire show and turn the war into a fucking board game!”

“Ya mean, he hasn't been doin' that before?”, Ares countered.

“Ares, I warn you! Don't think I didn't catch your disgusting smug grin earlier, when he threatened us all with what would happen, should we disobey him! How casually you let us see your scar, even though you grew your hair longer on the left side for the sake of hiding it?! How else could you of all gods be so calm and cavalier about this, if you weren't the one behind it?!”

The war god chuckled and swiped her hand off his shoulder.

“Ah, I wouldn't say that I'm behind it, although I might have a part in it.”

“What did you do?”, Athena growled.

He shrugged casually. “Eh, I just had a talk with him last night. From son to father, ya know. Resolvin' an argument we had after I came back from down there, doin' some business.”

“Doing some business!”, Athena echoed incredulously, “You persuaded him to stop everyone from interfering with the battle! How?! How did you do this?! You're anything but a man of eloquence!”

Ares laughed cruelly: “I didn't need to be. I just pointed out the obvious. If I'm not allowed to do my job, why should you – or anyone for that matter? I asked for justice and I got it.”

“Why, you-!”

He caught her fist, before she could hit him in the face.

“Now, now! No need to throw a hissy fit! I just gave you a taste of your own medicine!”

Athena was this close to deicide!

“What do you mean, a taste of my own medicine-”

She cried out in surprise, when he seized her by her chiton and pulled her close.

“How does it feel to not get your will, huh, Daddy's Owl?”, he growled, “That doesn't feel so great now, does it? This is what I have to bear with all the time. Although it probably stings you more than me … after all, you are his 'Little Owl-Eye'. It's probably way more mortifying, when you're used to always getting what you want. But that's not the case for me, which makes this whole thing just the sweeter!”

Forcefully he pushed her away, making her stagger a little.

“You injured me yesterday, both physically and psychologically”, he reminded her coldly. “You let a mortal pierce me with a spear and returned home in triumph with my mother, to gloat over how you two stopped me. And you expected for me to just let it go? No. I am spiteful like my mother. And if I want, I can be pretty damn underhanded, just like our daddy dearest.”

“Why should father listen to you?!”, she snarled, “To you of all gods!”

Ares smiled frigidly: “Sometimes he listens to me … because I'm his heir.”

Her blood ran cold.

Of course.

The Greek gods followed the principle of primogeniture, which required for a ruler to be succeeded by his oldest legitimate son.

And Ares, even though he was Zeus' least favourite son, was his only legitimate one.

The war god sighed and span around on his heel. “It's really sad, how you always forget that. But it doesn't matter. The Achaeans will conquer Troy eventually, but no one will be truly the victor. Of that I have taken care. Well, Thetis and I – don't wanna hog the whole credit, like you always do. But lighten up, Daddy's Owl; we both know our father, the prohibition won't last for that long. Sooner or later we'll all meddle with their mortal affairs again.”

He smirked at her over his right shoulder. “But right here and now, I am the winner. Not gonna lie, I hated having to be so underhanded, but it was worth it. And when your side lays Troy to waste, well, enjoy watchin' on as they commit war crimes so horrid, that you'll regret havin' supported them. This is the price you pay for your victory. Have a nice day, Daddy's Owl. Don't choke on that piece of humble pie, will ya?”

---

1) "Of the wrath sing, goddess, of Akhilleus, son of Peleus, his cursed wrath, which brought so much woe to the Achaeans (the Greeks) ..." The opening sentence of the Iliad. 2) If you have never heard of Mycenae, please look it up. For the context, it's one of the Greek main powers during that era and is ruled by Agamemnon (who is a fucking arsehole), the brother of Menélaos. The later Greek civilization considered itself a successor to the Mycenaean culture. 3) Smintheus: "Lord of the Mice/Rats", one of Apollon's epithets. 4) Danaoi: the Greeks, as referred to around the area of Troy. 5) Ioímios: "Lord of the Plagues", one of Apollon's epithets. Both of the aforementioned epithets refer to his function as god of pests and plagues. 6) Brotoloigos: "Slaughterer of Men/Manslaughtering", an epithet of Ares. 7) In the Iliad, she flees to her mother Dione, who treats her wound and comforts her. But I'm going with the account of Hesiod's Theogony, according to which Aphrodite has no mother. She sprung from Ouranos' severed testicles, that fell into the sea, after Kronos castrated him. So instead of Dione, in my version she is comforted by Asklepios, the divine doctor. As for Asklepios, in his place the Iliad mentions Paian as the doctor of the gods and as god of healing. But his identity isn't clear and Paian is also an epithets of several other gods with an association with healing (Paian means "Healer"). 8) Hekatos: "Worker from Afar", one of Apollon's epithets (in his function as god of archery and prophecy)

Bonus: Yes, I know that in the book Ares has nothing to do with Zeus' order for the gods to stay out of the fighting for now (I'm reading that damn thing for the 3rd time now!). I just thought, it would be funny if he used his few braincells for petty revenge in the most devious way he can think of. So that's my own invention, lol.

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olboypacman · 6 years ago

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5. Drown (Trigon, the Benevolent)

A/N: Still don’t own it. By ‘it’ I mean Teen Titans. Little bit of BBRae and sister-brother CyRae in this one-shot.

It’s been a while since they were able to be this close to one another. Between protecting the city, Robin’s ever-present training sessions, and Raven being recruited into daddy-daughter time, it’s been a rather trying time find to find time be with one another.

Not that it wasn’t inherently challenging anyway.

What with Raven wanting to keep the romance between her and the changeling a secret.

But that’s not important.

What’s important is Gar’s hands exploring the curves and peaks of Raven’s body.

The desperate, hungry kisses they both pepper each other with, the pent-up frustration of not being able to enjoy each finally being released.

That is until…

A black portal opens in the middle if the room. Trigon emerged from the portal taking in the sight before him. Beast Boy’s bare green back, his arms and legs tangled up with his daughter’s. His dearest Raven in her bra, though everything else is modestly covered by the green changeling being on top of her.

Completely and utterly dumbfounded, Raven and Gar and Trigon stare each other down for seemingly an eternity, before Trigon scoffs, barring his teeth as approaches the door. He doesn’t even to punch in the code opting to phase through it instead.

Mortified that the ridiculously powerful, almost god-like interdimensional demon lord who happens to be the father of the love his life just walked in on them, Gar detangles himself from his girlfriend, throwing himself on his back and begins to laugh nervously to himself. “I’m alive,” he mutters, nervous laughter not letting up, “I’m alive, I for sure saw my life flash before my eyes when he teleported in here.”

“Don’t tempt me Gar, day’s not over yet.” Responds Raven, her own mortification apparent on her face.

“Victor!” Yells Trigon, making his way to the common room. “Victor, where are you!?” He screams again.

Coming upon the common room, he looks around, seeing Starfire playing with Silky, and Robin at the main computer.

“Trigon?” Inquires Starfire inquires, flying up to Trigon Silky in her arms. “To what do we pay your visit?”

“It’s ‘owe your visit’, Star,” Robin instinctually corrects. “Though I’m curious as why you’re here.”

“That’s not important, I’m must talk to Victor,” says Trigon exasperated.

“Did something happen with Raven?” Questions Robin, Trigon’s visible irritation alarming Robin.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.” Answers Trigon.

“What is it?” Says Robin.

Trigon, realizing his own vexation is causing a bit of stir among the two titans in front of him, he takes a deep breath, calming himself. “To what is the nature of the relationship of the changeling and my daughter?”

Nature of their relationship?

It’s obvious to anyone who spends any length of time around Raven and Garfield. They’re head-over-heels for each other. It almost hurts it’s so obvious.

Robin, acting on pure instinct, puts his hands over Starfire’s mouth before she makes grand exclamations of Beast Boy’s undying love for Raven or vice-versa. If something happened involving Raven’s love life, it’s best to not insert one’s self into it. Especially if their current romantic relationship is supposed to be a secret. Not that they’re any good at hiding it. And especially when it’s apparent that said love life is agitating Raven’s very powerful demon lord father.

“Nothing!” Clams Robin. “Just very good friends. Come on Star, we’ve got, uh…something to do. A date. Yes, a date, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Oh yes, a date,” she says picking up Robin’s hints. “But Raven…”

“Is very good friends with Beast Boy. Come on, let’s go!” He says dragging Starfire to anywhere but here.

Yeah, best not to get involved at all…

“Hey, T, what’s up man?” Says a voice behind him.

Trigon turns around, revealing the metallic silver, white and glowing blue frame of Cyborg.

“Raven says you’ve been looking, or more like screaming for me. What’s up?”

“Do you still have that, what did you call it? Secret stash?”

“Uh, did something happen? Raven said you might be upset, but she didn’t say about what.”

Trigon not sure how to tell him what he saw then demands, “I need what’s in your secret stash Victor!” He finished grabbing Cyborg by the shoulders.

“Fine, fine. Don’t yell, just don’t drink it all man.”

It’s not unreasonable that a man gets a break every once in a while. Victor Stone, better known as Cyborg to the public, is a firm believer in such concept. Victor juggles a lot of personalities in his life. He no doubt loves them all very much, but they all have a tendency to (on occasion) stress him the fuck out. Victor finds himself taking this dedicated time to himself with old school hip-hop, Top Gear reruns, and, the secret stash of which Trigon’s on about, brown liquor.

Which leads to his current situation.

Trigon had refused to tell what had he and Raven so upset. About four drinks in, Trigon revealed that he had walked in Raven and Beast Boy ‘in the act’ (Trigon’s words).

This went over about as well as one would expect with Victor. He immediately broke into hysterics, exclaiming, “Glad it wasn’t me!” This prompted Trigon to give Victor his blood line’s patented glowing four-eyed stare, Cyborg responded by refilling Trigons glass. He wouldn’t incinerate me, I think.

Eventually Trigon had more than his fill of liquor. And that, brought out certain aspects of Trigon’s personality Victor would rather not deal with.

Trigon was a very introspective, mopey drunk. Can’t hold his booze very good either.

Trigon is currently ranting about Raven, “She’s my baby girl, Victor!”

“Well you can’t really expect her to stay a baby forever, and Gar’s a good dude. He’ll take good care of her.”

“You know, Vic,” slurs Trigon, “I used to hold her, just like this.” He holds his arms out as one holds a baby, but he’s starting to tip forward. “She was so innocent, so precious. I don’t want her to grow up, Vic!”

Victor goes over to Trigon, making sure he doesn’t tip over.

“Yeah, well, you can’t stop that no sooner than you can stop the sun from rising.”

“Won’t you humor a drunken old demon, Victor?”

“Sure, T, sure.” Laughs Cyborg.

Victor’s T-communicator starts to ring at that point.

“Cy,” he answers.

“Is, uh, my dad still with you?” It’s Raven.

“Girl, your ears must’ve been burning. We were just talking about you. But yeah, he’s with me in my room, drunk as a skunk, trying to will his baby girl to stop growing. Is it working?”

He can practically hear Raven massage her temples in frustration. “I’m on my way to get him out of your hair. You must be tired of him by now.”

“Yeah, just about. Plus, the long throat bastard cleaned out my stash.”

“But, you had about 8 bottles put up?”

“Yeah, had.”

“Well I’ll see you in a bit.”

In a few minutes there’s a knock on the door. Cyborg makes his way to it, punching in the code to reveal a causally dressed Raven and Beast Boy.

“You know you guys aren’t really that slick.” Asks Cyborg.

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean Victor?”

“Come on! I mean you two! You one of Robin’s safe-guards for the Tower is monitoring any and all heat signatures in the tower.”

“And?” Asks Gar.

“I mean occasionally, before bed either Robin or I would see where everyone was according to their heat signature, and occasionally one of your rooms would be empty and the other one of your rooms would register two heat signatures.” Says Cyborg smiling knowingly at the couple.

They simply stare back at him.

“Is that Gar’s shirt?”

“Not important,” Raven storms her way past Cyborg, toward Trigon. “Dad?”

“Dearest Raven!” Exclaims Trigon, bounding towards her unceremoniously. He lands on his knees right in front of Raven, pulling her into an embrace. “My baby girl!” He weeps.

She shushes him, awkwardly hugging him back. “I can’t believe you let him drink.” She snaps to Cyborg.

“Eh,” says Cyborg as he shrugs. “When an infinitely powerful arch-demon-lord-person asks for a drink, who am I to risk my skin and deny him?”

Raven gives Cyborg a shrug of her own. “I’ll take him a spare room, Gar, can you give me a hand?”

At the mention at her beau’s name, Trigon immediately makes eye contact with the changeling. His two eyes split into four glowing ones, and points to his eyes then to Gar’s in a ‘I’m watching you’ type motion.

“I’ve got a, uh, see in ya bed Rae!” Says Beast Boy, running for his life.

“Figures…” says Raven, very much done with the men in her life.

“I’ll help you, “says Cyborg.

Cyborg stands the drunken Trigon up before putting him on his shoulders in a fireman’s carry position.

Raven leads to the way to a spare room. Luckily, they don’t have travel far as there’s an abundance of spare rooms on this floor.

Raven moves the bland dark blue blanket back as Cyborg places Trigon on the bed. As he walks off, he mutters something about ‘long throat demons drinking me dry’ as he makes his way out the room.

She tucks him in, kisses him on his cheek, and starts to make her way out of the room, but not before he grabs her by the hand. “You’ll always be my baby girl Raven. I wish I had more of an opportunity to watch you grow up. I missed so much of your life dealing with the ordeal Augustus had caused. It feels like I just turned around one day, and my dearest little girl is now a grown woman.”

“Papa,” Raven responds, “the good news is you don’t have to miss any more, mother either. And don’t be so hard on Garfield, he’s a very good man. He’s been very good to me.”

“He better…” Says Trigon, as he rolls over to go to sleep.

“Good night, Papa.”

Raven walks out the room meeting Cyborg down the hall. He insists that he walk Raven to her room.

“That father of yours…” Says Cyborg.

“Yep.”

“One thing I wonder about though.”

“And that is?”

“His he ‘papa’ all the time, or just when no ones around?” Asks Cyborg, shit eating grin across his face.

“Don’t know,” sighs Raven, “does Robin know you have a secret stash of alcohol?”

Cyborg scoffs, grin widening, “Does he? Who do you think I’m hiding it from!?”

Read this and more at https://www.fanfiction.net/~olboypacman

#Trigon #papa trigon #raven #raven x beast boy #cyborg #starfire #robin #Teen Titans #FF.net #fanfic #fanfiction

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im-abanana · 7 years ago

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-The Demon and The Angel- ch.1

Mhh... mk’okay? This is the first word of my first Bendy x Alice One-Shot series, that is on AO3 as well. Here’s the link, if you’re interested: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12736851/chapters/29045748

I will write random chapters about random AUs and genres (fluff, angst, sfw, nsfw, tragedy, family, romantic... it depends), as I said if you have a word you’d like me to turn into a chapter, you’re free to send me that word in an ask. I doubt somebody will, but just so you know. Of well, enjoy this first one-shot tho.

-Plane-

“Alright guys, everybody get on board before it's too late! Are you all ready for our first tour in Italy?” that rhetorical question immediately got an ecstatic, happy and unanimous shout as a reply, and Joey couldn't help but smile in front of his cartoons's, the creatures he created by himself, the ones he considered as his own children and family, impatience and enthusiasm. “Good to hear! Then com'on, follow us, but careful not to get lost.” the young animator, helped by his trusted co-worker and best friend Henry, guided the unexperienced and rather curious group inside the huge plane, showing them their seats and the bathroom, just in case. Turning his head and facing his best pal, Joey whispered with a cheerful tone: “They're really excited about their first tour, aren't they?”.

“Can you really blame them, buddy? After all, this is the first time they travel by air, too. It must be an overwhelming experience.” Henry crossed his strong arms and grinned as well, finally catching his breath and wiping some sweat off his forehead with an old handkerchief. “Let's just hope they won't cause any trouble... especially Bendy.”.

“Wow, this flyin' thing is fuckin' huge!” a member of The Butcher Gang, to be specific Edgar, loudly admired as he rapidly explored the unknown area and walked up and down the main corridor, his four spider legs sensing the soft fabric underneath their inky feet. “I've never seen anythin' like this, gang!”.

“Edgar! No swearing, there are little kids with their parents around us! The creators told us to behave, remember?” Alice promptly scolded the incredibly rude hybrid-arachnid and incinerated with a sharp gaze Barley and Charley too, perfectly aware that cursing was a pretty common habit for those three. “I swear to God, if I hear one single unfortunate slip of your tongue, you'll have my horns puncturing the spot where the sun never shines. Do you understand me?”.

“Play by your rules, my ass! Ya listen up Angel, ya ain't nobody here! Ya can't tell us what we can or can't do, girl! I'm the boss!” Charley aggressively growled and cracked his knuckles, trying to appear scary and bossy despite his ridiculous height. “If ya wanna lay down the law, bring it on!”.

“A pleasure.” the black haired fallen angel kneeled down and stooped on her enemy's inferior level with a deep frown, showing and swinging her pointy, deadly and dangerous horns with untamed rage and dominance. “Watch me closely, you disgusting short-stack, 'cause I'm about to smash your face!”.

“I'll beat ya to death instead, pathetic wingless bitch!”.

“Woah, woah, woah, stop it you two! Joey, Henry! Help, Alice and Charley fighting again!” Boris and Bendy immediately jumped forward and grabbed Alice's right leg and narrow shoulders, trying to hold the young singer back with great effort, while Barley and Edgar did the same with their older leader Charley, wrapping their thin arms around his gaunt waist and pinning him down against the cold floor of the plane. “Gotcha!”.

Letting out a deep sigh of resignation, the two animators stood up and approached the six squirming cartoons and stared at them with a very serious look, defusing the situation in a quick blink as they spoke in unison: “We talked about this guys, during the flight you'll have to be absolutely quiet and respectful of other passengers, we are not alone on this plane. No fights, no screams, no death threats. Our seats are pretty far from yours, and we can't just check on you every five minutes, besides we think you're mature enough to understand our point and be good and friendly. Will you do all that for us?” Henry simply inquired with a paternal expression as they all nodded, messing with Bendy's bristly hair and making the little devil giggle, amused. “Good.”.

“Oh and Charley, Alice can actually tell you what to do: she's in charge from now until the end of the flight. I'm sincerely sorry, I know how much you two hate each other, but she's definitely the most responsible here.” Joey added with a sly smirk, gently patting the fallen angel's back with his right hand. “Except for Boris, you're my only consolation: please, keep an eye on them all, Alice.”.

“Of course I will, Joey. Thank you very much for your trust, I'll make sure everything will be alright, you don't have to worry.” the black haired woman agreed with evident pride and satisfaction, sitting in her own seat and seeing her co-workers slowly doing the same thing. Boris was quiet and composed as usual, his fluffy tail wagging non-stop since he was completely thrilled, while Bendy and The Butcher Gang were complaining and grumbling by themselves, offended and almost outraged by their “dad's” last admonition and decision.

“I should be the one in charge. I'm the star of this show... I don't get why they always leave you in charge. It's not fair.” Bendy dramatically groaned out with a grumpy face and sat down beside the stunning and majestic angel, while Edgar and Boris sat together right behind them, and so did Charley and Barley soon after. “It's not fair at and-... Uh?” the demon concluded his silent speech with a surprised yelp and almost jumped up in fear, suddenly hearing the airplane doors closing. “What's this? What's happening, guys? Are we taking off yet?”.

“Looks like we are, Bendy. About time.” Alice replied and carefully fastened her own seatbelt while the hostess was talking and explaining the emergency manoeuvres to them, lying back and trying to relax her sore muscles, breathing heavily but showing happiness at the same time; it was finally time! “I can't believe we're finally going to visit Italy, I mean, that sounds really interesting and important to me! That country has a lot of history and an amazing culture! I wonder how it is, but I've heard that food and people are pretty nice there. I honestly can't wait.”.

“Me neither, but I agree with Alice: I bet Italy it's a beautiful place! I wanna try the food, like pizza, pasta or lasagna... I'm hungry!” Boris merrily barked from behind the other two main characters and caught everyone's attention, and especially the smaller children's, who recognized their favourite heroes immediately and called their names. “Hi, kids!”.

“You're always hungry, Boris. We've got a very long flight ahead us tho, you'll have to resist a little.” Alice simply snickered with a sweet and kind tone, turning her head to face their little fans as soon as she heard their pleas and almost desperate calls. “Oh, hello everybody! Nice to meet you!”.

“Mommy and daddy, look: there are Bendy and his five friends over there!” a blonde kid quickly insistently pulled his parents' refined clothes and pointed the six nervous cartoons with his tiny index finger, clapping his hands with immense emotion and joy. “Bendy, hello! Bendy!”.

“The one and only, my dearest kid! Today's your lucky day indeed, but if you want an autograph on your t-shirt or plush you'll have to wait until the end of this flight!” the dancing demon frantically fixed his white bow tie to appear impeccable and just winked, resting his right elbow against Alice's left hip and then buried his head in her, umh, chest to look even more smug in his little fans' sparkling eyes, but ending up with an energetic and firm slap on his cheek from the black haired fallen angel, evidently irritated by his uncaring behaviour and brazen, flirty moves. “Ow! W-why the Hell did you do that!?”.

“Guys, I think we are jetting off right n- Woah!” before the humanoid wolf behind them could even finish his whole sentence, the plane officially took off and the prepared passengers experienced the first and sudden air pocket; Boris let out a scared yelp at first, not familiar with the new sensation, but then he shyly stared out the little round window beside him and gasped, admiring the breathtaking landscape from above. “Wow! It's beautiful!”.

“It's so amazing, you're right Boris!” Alice echoed with uncontrollable energy after a second and pressed her smooth palms against the freezing glass, completely unafraid and willing to see the world from a fresh perspective. “Bendy com'on, take a look as well, you don't know what you're missing. Bendy! Bendy? Bendy, will you just-... are you kidding me right now?”.

“Bendy, it's not that bad. Calm down and be an adult please, everyone's watching us and not because they want an autograph!” Alice mumbled and patted her co-worker's sweaty back as the tiny demon shook, trembled and shivered in pure fear as he perceived that their artificial feet, or to be specific the whole plane, was not safely on the ground anymore. “There's no need to panic, we're alright. Breathe, and stop freaking out!”.

“I wanna get off this thing, this second! Dad Joey! Uncle Henry! Help me!” Bendy cried out in instinctive terror, every single movement or vibration of the jet scaring the skilled dancer to death and forcing him to hug the patient fallen angel beside him even tighter. Two young and worried hostesses rushed beside them and asked what exactly was wrong with that short cartoon along with other confused people, earning a sincere apology from Alice and just a scared shout from the elegant devil, as a cracked reply: “What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me, you dare to say? Everything is completely wrong, don't you see!? Stop this stupid plane woman, I wanna get off!”.

“Bendy, will you shut the fuck up already!? Stop it, you're embarassing us all! Calm down!” the angelic girl yelled at that point, completely enraged, her pale cheeks flushed and a bit greyer than before, of course ashamed of him and his childish behaviour. Grabbing the main star's narrow shoulders, she tried to keep her partner still against the seat and avoid the precise strikes of his pointy and bothering black horns. “Ouch! Be careful with those things, you idiot!” Alice hissed in stinging pain and hit Bendy back, the two of them starting to struggle with strong slaps, powerful kicks, fierce lock horns and ruthless punches.

“Mommy, mommy! That lady said the F word!” a little baby girl laughed in genuine amusement, pulling her shocked mother's leather jacket and merrily squirming around and singing an improvised song: “She said the F word, she said the F word, she said the F word!”.

“Well guys, that's freaking great.” Charley rolled his pitch black eyes and huffed out, resigned, seeing his co-workers violently brawling as usual, not caring about their surroundings or anything else beside their pride, reallly. “Just what we needed to hear and tolerate; a yelling kid and Alice and Bendy fighting like an old married couple for the next ten hours, verbally and physically. Shit.”.

“Well boss, you know them after all.” Barley simply replied with a neutral shrug, crossing his strong arms and spotting Joey and Henry, alarmed by those loud and terribly familiar screaming and grunting, desperately trying to separate the devil and the fallen angel. “One thing's for sure: next time, that wolf will probably be the one in charge.”.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #bendy x alice #bendalice #benlice #one-shot #comedy #batim #fanfiction

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sigurdjarlson · 7 years ago

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Okay guys but imagine this: KJ redemption arc. Stay with me. I’m a sucker for redemption arcs

This got long. I may have teared up

let's say he didn't die permanently and instead popped back up in the twisting nether much to his surprise. And okay let's fast forward to like Argus or something. Our heroes are fighting bravely but losing and Velen is about to sacrifice himself to save everyone when a death blow is blocked by an enormous red eredar and their opponent is incinerated with a blast of fel on the spot.

KJ turns to face him and there's a painfully tense moment where they just look at each other. Velen truly doesn't know how to respond. There's this hope blooming in his chest and it's terrifying. And before he can voice it, KJ flies off to join them in battle.

Then Sargeras (not him in his full glory i mean..but still incredibly powerful. Like his avatar? Another one I mean? An echo? A projection? I don’t know shh.) pops up to kill everybody and KJ fights alongside Velen and the crew. Each blow KJ strikes on this manifestation of Sargeras is struck with such vicious ferocity. Fury and grief in its rawest form. KJ spitting curses at the demon lord. This was his home once. These were his people.

These people are his people.

He betrayed them. He betrayed Velen because Sargeras convinced him there was no other way but..

There is another way.

There is hope

He knows this now.

And the only person he hates more than himself is Sargeras.

Sargeras is so caught off guard (and infuriated) by his right hand man turned on him. They can turn that brief distraction into an advantage. And he’s facing him while the others..do something else. I don’t know what okay this is about emotions and gay space goats I didn’t think the battle part through. )

And KJ was wrong. He was so very wrong and he's never going to be the Legion's pawn again. He's trying imprison Sargeras when Velen slowly walks up and takes his place at his side. "Together.” and they send that bitch back into the nether. For now.

it's painfully awkward once things settle. Everyone is understandably wary of their new..ally? And as overjoyed as Velen is by his old friend’s change of heart..it's soured by fear that it's a trick, that he'll lose faith again. Its mixed with so much anger and hurt. Yet, there's just as much love there. Relief. Pride. Hope.

And Kil'jaeden will never be Velen. He's not gentle or kind. His methods are still harsh and brutal. He’s extraordinarily clever and willing to do whatever it takes. The difference is he's on their side this time. It’s the Legion getting the brunt of his fury now

He’s a constant presence by Velen's side. He doesn't have anyone else. Velen’s the only one of them who matters to him..and more importantly Velen's the only one who seems to be growing to actually trust him but he'll prove himself soon enough. He'll show them he's capable of more than just mindless destruction.

it's not that simple for these two though. Kil'jaeden destroyed their planet, slaughtered his own people, betrayed Velen, tried to kill Velen countless times, hunted them across the stars and kidnapped Velen's son for the sole purpose of corrupting him and tricking Velen into killing him thousands of years later.

Velen straight up tells him he has to prove himself and he does. One step at a damn time he fights back against the Legion. They’ll relationship will never be like it was before. Too much has happened, they've both grown into different people and yet that doesn't mean they cannot start anew.

Kil'jaeden finally getting out an actual apology and it feels ridiculous. How could he ever hope to apologize for everything he's done? His crimes are far too great for that. But it means the world to Velen who tentatively initiates their mental connection for the first time since Kil'jaeden's "death."

This is a far better method of communication. KJ is proud and emotionally stunted. He doesn't know how to word it or express his feelings but damn it he can show him. He can show him he means it.

it's overwhelming for the both of them, feeling all the emotions the other is dealing with. Guilt, grief, pain, anger, regret, love, hope all mixed up in one another.

It’s a bumpy road naturally. He's KJ and he's going to fuck up but Velen's there to catch him this time. (Kdkdkdk KJ no murdering!!!! Put that orc down this instant! What did I say about Mass Murder?) There's no way to purify his fel scarred form but he certainly..downsizes most of the time so he's not like 20 feet tall. Most of the time.

He accepts the hatred people (especially his own) throw at him with gritted teeth. He deserves it. He'll prove them wrong.

He can do this.

He can do this. He can do it because he has Velen by his side again.,

He can never make up for what he's done. He can't bring back their planet or the millions of people he's killed. But he fights for a future for the survivors now, a new home. He will lead his people to safety and prosperity this time with Velen by his side. It's how it was always supposed to be..

And there's one subject they've been dancing around. KJ can feel Velen's desire to address it and he dreads it. He ripped himself completely open for him to see as he was dying. He let him see everything and that includes the fact that..he's in love with him.

It takes forever for either of them to actually bring it up. I mean Velen himself is struggling with countless feelings. Argus and Rakeesh weigh heavily on his mind. There's guilt there for wanting this still but he believes in forgiveness. He believes in redemption. And he believes in his dearest friend.

KJ fully expects rejection when Velen brings it up. Velen's patience and tolerance is one thing but surely he'd never.....

This conversation is tentative and terrifying on both ends but the great deceiver crumbles as Velen pulls him into his arms. And in private with only Velen as a witness he allows himself, for the first time in tens of thousands of years, to weep. He weeps for the millions he's slaughtered, he weeps for Argus, for his people, for himself and most of all for Velen.

Velen does too. For his people, their world, the dead, Rakeesh and yes, for Kil'jaeden.

If they sleep together it's this..overwhelming emotional experience. This mix of finally, finally, finally and is this really happening? Lust is there. It always has been but more important is the love they share. Neither really have to say a word. The mental connection they share allows them the privilege of feeling that for themselves.

And Velen touching the fel green scars littering Kil'jaeden's body so gently. The ones he inflicted on himself. 'Oh, what have you done to yourself, my friend?' There's a deep sadness there. For his friend and the path he went down and guilt for not being able to stop his fall from grace. Anger, yes anger, but for the first time in a very long time it's not at Kil'jaeden.

It's at Sargeras. The Legion. The monsters that dragged him down to hell and corrupted him.

He never takes the responsibility off KJ. He made his own choices. His own mistakes. He's responsible for his actions regardless..but it's not as simple as 'just decided to turn evil' that is it? Manipulation is a powerful, dangerous tool. One that KJ adopted himself during his time in the Legion. Ah and Velen is angry the Legion twisted his friend so.

And just.. KJ fighting by Velen's side to stop Sargeras and the Legion, for their people, for each other and for the chance at a new beginning. He's still Kil'jaeden. He stumbles and Velen has to rein him in. Pull him back to the light.

Cheesy as it sounds, his source of light and faith is not the naaru. It's Velen. Perhaps..together they can stop Sargeras and make amends for the mistakes of the past. As much as he can at least.

They were always meant to lead their people together and and that's what they are going to do.

Forgiveness....can you imagine?

#wow blogging #*shoves hamilton lyrics in here for extra sadness*

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