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slaybestieslay946 · 10 months ago

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Everything About You - Luke Castellan

Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere

also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE

MASTERLIST

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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan.

After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder.

You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.

You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous.

But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy.

“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.

Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…”

“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”

“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you.

“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”

Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing.

“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.

“What about her?”

“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?”

Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you.

“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.

“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”

“No thanks.”

“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.”

Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off.

“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.”

Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon.

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena.

Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away.

The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares.

He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known.

“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you.

You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you.

“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”

“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.”

“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.

Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance.

And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for.

With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back.

Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively.

The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat.

You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena.

“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless.

“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.”

“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased.

You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again.

“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.”

“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath.

But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked.

Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion.

“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes.

“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”

You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.”

And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face.

Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand.

“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her.

“Who? Luke?”

“Who else?”

“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?

“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.”

“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly.

“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”

Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need.

“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.

“You’re impossible.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.”

“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.”

“Bitch.”

When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious.

Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.

Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies.

It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring.

You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy.

“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”

“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned.

“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.

“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head.

“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her.

“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked.

You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new.

“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest.

Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”

Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa.

“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate.

“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly.

You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms.

“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”

“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.

You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head.

“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”

“Uh-”

“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake.

“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted.

“Shut up.”

Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’.

She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went.

You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.”

“She could be lying to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods.

Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff.

You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction.

“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff.

“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else.

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation.

Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings.

“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”

You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust).

“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods.

“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response.

You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.

Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not.

That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked.

“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper.

You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning.

He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed.

Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one.

You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.

And, as always, he defeated you eventually.

He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin.

“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours.

“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?”

Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen.

And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him.

“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory.

It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag.

Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset.

He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her.

“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand.

Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now.

“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.

“With Chiron. He got claimed.”

“What? By who-?”

“Posiedon.”

The boy’s jaw dropped.

“You’re joking. No fucking way.”

“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful.

“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?”

Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless.

Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks.

“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!”

“What, no it’s not-”

“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?”

Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before.

He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening.

As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts.

Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table.

Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care.

He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him.

The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food.

He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?

As it turned out, it could be really bad.

Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate.

As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly.

And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered.

She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull.

And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses.

They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake.

All the things you liked to do.

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself.

And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames.

Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them.

And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him.

At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go.

But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck.

He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t.

But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.

Why were you hurt?

As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?

You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way.

He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you?

Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend.

And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart.

You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth).

So why were you so devastated?

You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend.

“Hey!”

You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you.

“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy.

“Why’d you run away from the campfire?”

“Just needed some air.”

“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”

“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically.

He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship.

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.

“What?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.”

He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement.

“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.”

You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained.

“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous.

“So what are you-”

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across.

“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.

“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.”

You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity.

“You’re being serious?” You asked.

“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly.

You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”

Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you.

And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body.

He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again.

Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him.

“Wait, so you really mean it?”

“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”

“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body.

“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.”

At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.

“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.”

“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.

You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that.

So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.”

He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego.

“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.”

That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.

“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?”

“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.”

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #x reader #fluff #romance #minor angst #fanfic #writing #luke castellan #jealousy

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 1 year ago

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Dancing With Our Hands Tied

pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: angst, fluff in ending, dancer Hyunjin, non-idol!au, college au, swearing

summary: Being in the coveted dance team of the university was no small feat. After being in the team for a whole year, you find yourself about to participate in a prestigious inter-college competition for Duet performance with none other than the college IT boy and dance team captain- Hyunjin. You'd spent one year suppressing your big fat crush on the charming boy, but now that you find yourself dancing in his arms, he just might paint you golden.

wordcount: 6.4k

Note: This can be read as a one-shot but I was kind of expanding on the universe from the Lee Know oneshot Mr Gorgeous.

masterlist

Let me know your thoughts and feedback.

It was a nice Sunday morning and like every college student, all you wanted to do was sleep in. But unlike every student, you’re part of the university dance team. From the outside looking in, it was the most glamorous group to be a part of. Being a part of the team inherently gave you the highest social status on campus. You got special exemptions from certain tests and even privileges for missing mandatory events.

Little did they know that all the shine comes with a mountain of hard work. Getting into the dance team itself was a major task lasting 5 entire rounds of selections in multiple genres, solo and group showcase. And once you make it, there is no room for complacency. The team did at least three performances a month- in-house and external. So the only constant in your lives was practice sessions, assignments and sleepless nights.

For being the most desired group on campus, the dance team never got the time to do any of the popular kid things, apart from the validation itself. Except for the dance team co-captain, of course. Hwang Hyunjin will not let busy schedules and tiring practices stop him from being the campus IT boy. Nobody, literally nobody, is privy to his charms.

Including you.

Despite a lifetime of training in dance, the primary reason you tried out for the dance team was Hyunjin. You still remember the goosebumps on your skin and the way your jaw was on the floor the entire time he was on stage. On the day of your freshman orientation a year ago, you had joined hundreds gathered in the amphitheatre to see the dance team perform. The then sophomore, Hyunjin along with his friend Lino (Lee Minho), had been the stars of the show. The entire team, including the charming ex-captain- Chris, were immaculate. The performance was so power-packed mixed with equal parts grace and emotions. While the boys had done a hip-hop rendition, the girls had taken a contemporary approach. The two eventually collided to meet in the modern-pop genre for the finale. You decided then to join the dance team, so you did a few months later.

Although you should’ve decided against harbouring a huge crush on said It-boy. In the first two shows after making the team, you were nothing but a blubbering mess. It took all of your conscious energy to not stammer every time he so much as looked at you. Ultimately, you mellowed down, or maybe the reality of seeing Hyunjin woo more than half the campus with his charms and leave a trail of broken hearts got to you.

You still respected him as a dancer, it’s hard not to when he oozes power, grace and sometimes the literal demon while dancing. His on-stage persona was almost entirely different from the idiot who runs around pissing off his Co-captain Minho, or constantly trying to borderline harass the newest and youngest addition to the team- Jeongin.

Your phone alarm starts ringing bringing you back to reality- Sunday morning rehearsal. You silence it before it disturbs your roommates’ precious sleep. Trying your best to tiptoe your way around the dorm room, getting ready and after grabbing a granola bar from your desk, you make your way to the practice room.

On the way you meet your favourite person on the team- Felix (truth be told he’s everyone’s favourite).

“Hii Y/n.” He waves furiously giggling as he walks up to you.

“Hi Felix” you giggle back, simply because it’s impossible not to get affected by his infectious joy.

“How are you so cheerful at 6:30 AM?” You ask as he gives you a side hug. He just shrugs and skips alongside you to the practice room. You let out a little laugh at the little ball of sunshine that is Felix as he starts animatedly telling you random stories.

The practice room is in shambles. You and Felix exchange a flabbergasted look at each other and look around the room again. Everyone is crowded in the centre and talking over one another.

“Y/N! Come here. Fast.” You hear your Sumi, your teammate, call from somewhere amidst the chaos. When the team starts noticing you enter the room, they fall silent. They move back from crowding in the centre and you realise all eyes are switching between you and Sumi who is holding a paper in her hands.

“What’s going on?”

Sumi gulps and hands over the paper to you.

Inter-College Dance Competition Category: Duet Participants: Hyunjin and Y/N

Shit. Holy shit.

“Morning guys.”

The voice startled you. You whip your head to see Hyunjin enter the room, his duffel bag on his shoulder, clothes crumpled, and hair in a messy bun. Yet he looked ethereal.

He looks at you and smiles. “Oh Y/n, you’ve heard the news. Good, we can get down to the details then.”

Details? What details? Oh, right dance.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” You finally manage with a nod.

“Alright guys let's start, we’ll do a couple run-throughs till noon, take a break and convene here at 4:30pm to get ready for the show. Finally, we go up there and rock the crowd. Sound like a plan?”

Everyone cheers and you nod, still processing the fact that you had been chosen to dance a duet with Hyunjin. Not just any performance but the biggest inter-college competition in the state. With Hyunjin. A duet. You. And Hyunjin. Good god it’s going to be a ride.

The team goes into a practised routine of rehearsals, chaos, more rehearsals and even more chaos.

At 1 PM you’re glad you can finally rest for a few hours before the performance. The evening rolls in, and you head to the green room. One by one, the girls start getting ready and the green room is already chaotic but becomes a full-blown circus once the boys crowd in.

From your place, you watch as Hyunjin hugs Jeongin so tight that the poor junior looks like he could die. Lino is sitting in his favourite corner (he has one everywhere he goes), cuddled up with his girlfriend- man has been the biggest simp since they got together a month ago. Felix is going around giving everyone motivation and cheering them up- typical Felix. He hugs you so tight and warm, you can feel the nerves physically leave you. Then there’s Yeji and Lia, discussing choreo parts with Sumi and others. The air in here is infectious, everyone is equal parts excited and nervous.

The performance goes by in a whizz, the adrenaline rushing through your entire body as you stand on stage witnessing your friends, classmates, seniors and juniors in the crowds enjoying the performance.

You feel alive.

Afterwards, you change out of the costume into your sweats and meet all your classmates who had come backstage to support you. The gratitude that fills your chest leaves you emotional.

You give Jeongin a tight hug, congratulating him on his official performance as part of the team. Even if he hates the hug, he gracefully accepts it and smiles wide. You were very entirely endeared by his cuteness- everyone was. Specifically his super fan Hyunjin.

Think of the devil and watch as he walks to where you and Jeongin are. Even though you squished down your tiny crush, you've always felt nervous around him- simply because he is Hwang Hyunjin. Now the impending performance and the sheer idea of having to spend weeks practising with Hyunjin- one on one, is doing no help to your nerves.

"Jeonginahhhhh," he squeals and you step back as he hugs the younger member. Jeongin tries his best to smile and endure it but fails, making you crack up.

"Hi Y/N," Hyunjin says, finally letting the younger one go free finally and turning to you.

"Hey, Hyunjin. Amazing performance." You manage to say, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

"Thanks. You did well too." He flashes his smile, his fringe falling to his face and his eye twinkling as his cheeks light up.

There goes any attempt of calming your nerves.

Hyunjin continues to shower Jeongin with compliments, rightfully so, and you watch how he looks carefree and young as the latter is glowing in pride and embarrassment.

Right as you turn to take your leave, Hyujin calls your name.

"Yeah?"

"We need to discuss the performance, when can we meet about that?"

The frown on your face turns up before you realise it and he laughs.

"I get it. I need a break too. Maybe we can meet on Friday evening?"

"Yeah, sure. That works for me."

"It's a date."

A what?

But before you can mull over what he meant, your friends drag you out of the green room to celebrate. You were glad for the welcome distraction. Especially watching Seungmin and Yumi constantly fight over everything as you and Jisung sit there laughing at their antics.

----------

"Y/n, You can do this! It is just dancing. You've been doing this your whole life. Well, not dancing with Hyunjin, but the semantics don't matter. You can still do this. It is just called a duet, maybe the two of you will not even be on stage at the same time. Hyunjin is a busy guy, he might just ask you to do your own choreo for your part. Y/n, I know you're gonna sla-"

"Y/n, I will MURDER you if you don't get out of the bathroom right fucking now."

Yumi's voice breaks you out of the pep-talk you were giving yourself in the bathroom mirror. You give yourself one final thumbs up and head out to see a fuming Yumi standing on the other side.

She grunts like a wounded dog and you giggle as you hug her in apology.

"Sorry. Anyways, I'm heading out now. Haffun." You pick up your bags and start walking toward the dorm room door.

"I will. All the best for your meeting. And Y/n?" You hum looking at her.

"It'll be alright, don't stress out too much." You nod appreciatively and wave as you head out.

The whole way to the practice room, you keep repeating the pep-talk to yourself. You've spent a good amount of time in the last four days telling yourself that the date comment is just a habit for the pro-charmer Hyunjin and it means nothing. You might've also spent a good few hours warning yourself not to develop any embarrassing feelings for him.

When you enter the practice room, you see Hyunjin, Yeji and Minho sitting in a corner discussing something. As the only seniors in the group, they make all the logistical and creative decisions for the team. Minho spots you first, smiling politely and Yeji follows suit. Hyunjin nods in your direction as the three of them start to pack up.

Yeji and Minho make small talk with you before leaving and you're left alone with Hyunjin. He sits down in the centre of the room, in front of the full-length mirror, and ties his shoes as you walk toward him. He's in his usual sweats and hair tied in a half-up bun.

"Hi." You mutter as you sit down next to him.

"Hello. Had a nice break?" He smiles and you nod.

"Yeah, slept like a pig. What about you?"

"Meh, I mean I got a break from the dancing but still... senior year you know. I'm just perpetually tired." He does look tired and you nod sympathetically.

"Well, I'm sure you'll fare better than me as a senior next year." He says with a smile, sounding sincere and it takes everything in you not to blush.

So much for no embarrassing feelings.

"Oh, sure. Don't downplay your achievements. No one could lead this team the way you do." You were speaking the facts but seeing him smile wide and bright made your stomach flip.

"Aye you don't need to butter me up anymore, you got the part in the biggest competition now."

"Hey, I wasn't trying to butter you up." You feign mock offence.

"Okay, I believe you. Anyway, let's start with the concept."

Please say anything except sexy or love.

"So the concept is love- more like finding your way back to love. So I thought we would do something where estranged exes find their way back to each other kind of."

Big time fuck.

You nod and smile as you process his words and what this might mean for said embarrassing feelings (which you will not harbour). You decide to be a professional and only focus on dancing.

"Yeah, that sounds cool. Do you have any choreo already planned?"

"Yeah." He pulls up his laptop from his bag and shows a video. Hyunjin and Yeji are dancing in the video, the dance is… touchy to say the least. You refuse to acknowledge the churning in your stomach as you see the two of them dance closely.

The dance is split into three parts- starting with solos expressing the regret and anger that both parties have, proceeding to a mirroring sequence where their anguish aligns and finally, the slow dance symbolising the happy ending.

Once the dance ends you stare at the blank screen for a minute before turning to see that Hyunjin is expectantly staring at you.

“So?” He asks with raised eyebrows and a small smile playing on his lips.

“Umm it’s amazing. As usual.” He smiles and waves away the compliment.

“I have one doubt though, why didn’t Yeji and you perform this?” Your voice comes out low and quiet. A part of you hopes your question doesn't make him rethink and choose Yeji instead- for dance, of course.

He shakes his head sidewise, a shy smile on his face. "It didn't feel right."

"Oh."

"Alright, so I can start teaching you the common parts and we can modify according to our needs as we go. I'll leave the solo to you. Okay?"

"Yeah cool."

Lord knows how this is going to end.

----------

"Hyunjin, let's do this once more and then we'll move on to the next part." You reprimand a whining Hyunjin, lying face-first on the practice room floor. It's the fourth day of practice sessions and both of you are running out of fuel quickly.

"Y/n, you're doing good. Let's just take a break and start with the slow dance part." He whines turning to face you with a pout.

You want to give in to his antics but you hold your stand. Partly because it is a mirroring dance and you desperately want to be completely in sync with Hyunjin (the man dances like he is the god of dance). Another part because you wanted to delay the thought of starting the next section of the performance because the thought of being close to Hyunjin and doing the slow-contemporary dance section made your legs turn to slime.

"No. I just want to perfect this. Just onceeee. Then we can take a break, and start the- the other part." You flash him your best puppy-dog face and he sighs as he gets up from the floor.

"Alright let's do this but I don't know what you are worrying about, you're perfect already."

Cue embarrassing butterflies and feelings you definitely do not feel.

And like clockwork, the two of you start moving according to the beat. You had watched Hyunjin's every minuscule movement and so had he. Now you are in so much sync that the perfectionist in both of you is almost entirely satiated.

"Okay... that was brilliant Y/n. Please let's take a break and start learning the next part." He says taking deep breaths and chugging water. You can barely nod as you catch your breath.

The next hour is spent eating the dinner you ordered a while back, reviewing the latest run and the choreography video.

"What are you thinking for the solo part?" He asks between bites and you have to admit he looks cute with his cheeks filled as he chews and frowns as he enjoys the food.

"I'm thinking of sticking to my roots- just contemporary."

"Oh that's good. You're good at contemporary."

"I- Thanks." He smiles.

"You should do something similar to your audition performance."

You nod involuntarily and then his words sink in. "You remember that?"

"Yeah, I do. It was an amazing performance Y/N. I'm sure everyone remembers it." You scoff and he raises an eyebrow.

"Minho asked me if I am new, last month."

He laughs. "No no, that's just his messed up humour sense. But anyways, I speak for myself when I say it's hard to forget such a good performance. And you."

You end up swallowing a big bite of your burger and start to choke as he just smiles and hands you the water bottle. Before you can say anything, he is up for the next part.

It starts fine, the two of you slowly moving toward each other with each step- from mirroring each other to reaching out. Then comes the trickier part. It starts with your hands brushing, the two of you circling around the other, looking into each other. Obviously, you look anywhere but his face. Because staring into those eyes will not do anything good for you. He doesn't say anything if he notices the little flinches or lack of eye contact.

The two of you keep practising the moves over and over until both of you are satisfied with the flow. Now it is becoming increasingly hard for you to focus on these details. Especially considering how your heart is beating in your ears with every step the two of you take.

He needs to hold your hand and move it in a curve while his other hand is on your hip. And it gets worse, as the following step requires you to turn and face him, your hands on his neck, his on your hips as you bend away and come back to his embrace. He suggests going over each movement slowly and it worsens your plight. You hear his voice from a distance as you do your best not to stare at his lips that are inches away. You can see that he is saying something and you find yourself nodding along. You do the step according to his counts and return to his embrace.

This is when you do the mistake of looking up at his face, he is staring down at you too. You see the black fringes that have escaped the bun, sticking to the corners of his face. His forehead is lined with beads of sweat, thin darkened eyes, and plump lips slightly apart. The clock ticks somewhere but neither of you seems to realise, until eventually, you snap back into sense- the inherent panic of feelings stirring in your stomach.

You step back and look at your feet, he stays still and starts fidgeting with his hands.

"I- Um... It's almost 10. I- I should head back." You stammer, slowly looking at him. He looks at you for a second and nods. You nod and start collecting your things.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" And thud goes your water bottle, slipping from your hands- entirely due to your clumsiness and nothing to do with butterflies, of course.

"Uh no not necessary. It's just a 5 min walk." You hope he looks disappointed but hope is a dangerous game for a fool trying to live in denial.

"Ok. Bye." He turns to his bag before you can say your bye and that's that.

------

"Two days. That's all we have for the performance! And this is when Hyunjin decides he can just go galivanting about and not show up to practice." You groan to yourself, standing in front of the full-length mirror in the practice room.

The last two weeks of practice have been a lot less eventful compared to the first. After the first day of doing the slow dance, things shifted between Hyunjin and you. Both of you became more distant and closer, at the same time. Some days you bickered like childhood besties, and on others, both of you walked around each other on eggshells. He often showed up to morning practice with crumpled clothes and messed up hair and your heart would drop to your stomach realising he must've spent the night with someone else. You would immediately reprimand yourself for making assumptions just to get your feelings in check.

And yet here you were, mind running in a million different directions as you figure he could be with anybody right now, while you sit in the musty old practice room at 7pm on a Saturday evening. These thoughts never helped, so you resort to your comfort zone- dancing.

And for the third time that evening, you go over your solo part and the rest of the dance. You are tired of dancing the same things so you start freestyling to your favourite tracks. Dancing always made you feel good, especially when you poured all your emotions out through your body. You lost yourself to the song, letting the beat and your body carry you away.

That's how you fail to notice Hyunjin's arrival until you get startled by the loud claps coming from the door. You whip your head around to see him standing with his go-to sweatshirt, duffel bag and hair in a bun. He is smiling wide, the kind that made his eyes small and cheeks full.

"Y/N, that was sooo goood. I've never seen you move like that till now. That was amazing, really!"

This boy made it so hard to live in denial with his charm, kind words and that smile. And that's why you can do nothing but smile and giggle like a little girl as you mutter a small thanks.

"Sorry, I got caught up in work. Have you been waiting long?" You watch as he puts his bag down and starts stretching and you see that his sweatshirt is inside out, and his hair is messier than you've ever seen. Here's the thing about this boy- he goes around breaking hearts without intending to. And here's the thing about unrequited crushes- you become somewhat of an Agatha Christie, just connecting all the randomest dots just to make up reasons to let your heart down again, it's almost a masochistic need. Logically, you knew better than to assume messy clothes meant anything of significance. But as a woman on a mission to prevent herself from falling deeper, you would grip onto anything that provides an anchor for your heart- even if it means you end up breaking your heart anyway.

And which is why you blurt out, "Why do you care if I wait... I'm sure you have better people to attend to anyway."

The piercing tone of your voice makes Hyunjin stop in his tracks and look at you through the mirror. The room is dead silent as you pick apart the skin in your cuticles in an attempt to keep the tears from falling and your heart from breaking further. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the all too familiar feeling of heartache that comes with unrequited love, but the shell you had so carefully maintained had come crashing down.

"Wha- What are you saying?" His voice comes soft and nervous. You do the mistake of looking up, through the mirror. You scoff and swallow the tears back, "No, nothing. I just- forget it. Let's practice."

"Are you sure? You just said something abou-"

"Can we just practice once and get over with this. I'm exhausted." You snap.

He just nods and proceeds to start the music. You don't look at him, not even during the mirroring sequence, he huffs a little too loudly at that. The run-through itself goes smoothly, until the last sequence. It's hard to do a romantic slow dance when you refuse to meet his eyes and keep flinching every time he touches you. Still, both of you push through. You get out of his clutches the second the song ends and start to pack your things.

"Y/N, why are you already packing?"

This boy makes it very hard not to get unreasonably angry at him because he doesn't let you hate him.

"It's almost 9 pm Hyunijn. I have been here since 6, I'm tired." He just nods and stays silent. You gather your things, throw your bag on your shoulder and leave. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks you didn't wave or say bye enthusiastically like you usually do, he doesn't show it. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks that he hasn't asked to walk you back to your dorm and you refused the offer like you usually do, he doesn't show it. The walk back to the dorm feels a lot heavier for the first time.

The next day is nothing short of a struggle, your eyes burning due to the incessant crying from the previous night, mind spinning everywhere and body weak. You were ashamed to have let your feelings mess you up so bad. Usually, you'd be extra careful to eat more and rest well during practice and performance times. This is probably the first time that you show up to the dress rehearsal with big bags beneath your eyes and feeling like a mess. It's not your first unrequited heartbreak, just the first time it feels this heavy and lonely.

The rehearsal is sullen- neither you nor Hyunjin makes any effort to talk. The tension in the air gets to the audiences for the day- Minho, Felix and Yeji. They exchange looks and try their best to engage both of you in some kind of conversation- it doesn't work. You put on the outfit and it makes you look decent despite your haggard state. The salt in the wound is how gorgeous Hyunjin looks in his outfit- not surprising, but still annoying considering he walked in looking downright homeless and sleep-deprived. The outfit doesn't hide the state of his face, yet he looks gorgeous. A week earlier both of you had been so excited to see the outfits, you even had hopes of Hyunjin finally seeing what is in front of his eyes. Yeah, stupid embarrassing feelings.

There are two full run-throughs, and the emotions until the last part is so enthralling to the audience. The three watching can see the tension flash as the two of you do your best to avoid each other's eyes and finish the dance. They don't press much, you're thankful for that. Getting out of the outfit, ready to head back to the dorm, you step out of the door only to find Hyunjin standing there- back in his oversized sweatshirt, messy hair and sullen expression. He always looked a lot younger and innocent when he wasn't performing, and you liked that about him- until now.

"Y/N, can I walk you to your dorm?" His voice quivers and he looks like an actual wounded puppy.

"Not needed." You avoid his gaze to evade giving in and walk away before he can retaliate. You always refused his offer knowing it was just another steep step right into disaster- as if the one already caused wasn't enough. You've also seen him pull the same gentlemanly moves with girls and boys across the campus and watch the poor suckers fall for him only to get burnt. Even after trying your best, you got burnt, you didn't need more reason.

------

"Y/N, can we just talk once before going on stage please," Hyunjin begs from the driver's seat. He is driving the two of you to the competition and the minute you sit down he says this.

"Let's just go. I have a headache." It wasn't a lie, but it felt bad rejecting him that way. The rest of the drive is silent, save for the faint music coming from the radio- which was annoyingly filled with love songs. After an hour's drive, you both arrive at the location. the entire place is filled with students from multiple universities across the state, all excited and dressed up, except for the two of you. You hate yourself for making this hard for both of you, especially when he did nothing actually wrong.

Stupid feelings.

"Stop fidgeting with your nails." Hyunjin snaps at you. He is sitting next to you in the green room- looking ethereal with makeup and costume on.

"I'm trying." You grunt back. There are ten minutes left for the performance and both of you are getting increasingly agitated.

"I'll help," is all he says before taking your hand in his and caging it there as looks toward the side of the stage. You try to protest but he clutches your hand pretty firmly.

"I won't burn you, stop squirming." His words effectively shut you up. You try to numb the feelings arising from his touch. You almost manage to do it until you realise he is rubbing circles around your palm. You're simultaneously calming down and getting more worked up. But he does manage to distract you till it's go-time. He gives you a small genuine smile and you nod, almost letting the tears fall. His face deflates but he immediately collects himself and goes into performance mode.

The music begins, you look out into the crowd, the nerves turn to excitement, and you feel alive. Hyunjin's solo leaves the crowd in awe. The audience goes wild during the mirroring sequence. But all the sound starts draining out as you move closer to him. You look at him, he looks at you, and your hands intertwine. The both of you move according to the beat- the only thing that exists right now is the music, Hyunjin and you. For the next minute he's yours and you're his. No one needs to know, the world could divide you later but for now, this was your sacred oasis.

A tear rolls down your cheek, and he reaches to brush it off in sync with the beat. His eyes sparkle, and there are a million emotions behind them. You want to hold on, you want to dance with him as long as you can. Both of you are in the tightest embrace you've ever been in, with shallow breaths, wet eyes and a big lump in your throat. The applause makes you break and look at the audience.

Neither of you speaks as you wait backstage for the last performance. You look everywhere but at him, trying to be as discreet as possible while rubbing the tears off your face. Eventually, all contestants are called up on stage. Hyunjin and you stand shoulder to shoulder, his palm brushing against yours but never reaching to hold on. The third and second places have been announced, the room is pulsing with tension and yet all you can think about is the man on your right.

You faintly hear your name, along with Hyunjin's, and it takes two seconds to realize that you've won the competition. What should've been the highest of highs of your life feels anti-climatic. You look up at him, both of you are smiling wide with teary eyes. You bear tears of fear and heartache, while he is probably teary-eyed on achieving this prestigious prize. The two of you collect the prize, congratulate fellow participants, and socialise with the other people there with practised smiles.

After an exhausting hour, the two of you are back in Hyunjin's car, still in outfits and makeup. He drives silently and you close your eyes fearing the tears will fall down otherwise. The car halts a while later as you've reached the campus. Both of you collect your things, take the cup and medal you won to the practice room and change out of the costumes.

Just as you turn to leave the room and head back to the dorms, he stops you with a hand on his wrist. You turn to question him but he doesn't look at you. He's locking the door with one hand as he holds on to you with the other. You roll your eyes.

"Hyunjin let me go."

He turns, now done with the lock, and starts walking forward as he drags you with him.

"Let me go, Hyunjin. I'm serious." He keeps walking, and you follow, until you've reached a room that looks like a storage room. He stops in front of the door and still doesn't let go of your hand. You're too confused to say anything although your head is buzzing with a million questions.

"When someone asks to walk you back, you should let them."

"Huh?" He turns to look at you, eyes dark and serious. He hasn't taken his makeup yet and he looks positively dangerous if not enthralling.

"I said, stop refusing when I ask to walk you back." His words are sharp and his voice is low.

"Why? What does that change?" The sting in your eye returns, you can't bare to look at him so you turn away.

But he holds your chin in his palm, the one that isn't holding your hand, and turns you to face him. "Y/N, I don't understand what I did wrong. Just please tell me, I'll do anything to make you happy."

"Why? Why do you want to make me happy? So that you can break my heart like you break everyone else's?" He looks shocked and the tears are now flowing desperately from your eyes.

"What are you even saying?"

"Hyunjin stop pretending... everyone knows that you just charm people and sleep around. Actually, it's not even your fault. I'm the idiot who knew all this and still let myself fall for you." You can feel your heart disintegrate and sincerely wish he'd let you go so that you can go hide in the comfort of your bed.

"What the fuck Y/N? Just 'cuz people say something doesn't make it true. I don't just go around flirting and sleeping with people." He's angry and you can hear it. You know he has the right to be but can't help your emotions. He is still holding your hand despite his anger, you note.

"Then where do you disappear off to every night? And why do you always show up in dishevelled clothes and messed up hair?" You sound stupid, now that the words are out of your mouth, but then no fool in love ever remains sane.

He sighs and throws his head back in frustration.

"You idiot. That- that's not because I'm fucking someone every night. It's- I go to.."

"To what Hyunjin?" Your patience is running low and he looks nervous.

He sighs. Letting your hand go, he opens the door to the storage room and turns the light on. It is an art studio, filled with paintings upon paintings. You turn to Hyunjin, more confused than before.

"This is my makeshift studio. A gallery owner has signed me on as the artist for their upcoming exhibition. I'm trying to get stuff done for that. It's next week. That's why I am always late to practice and why I look 'dishevelled'." He says quietly, with air quotes and a desperate tone in his voice.

"What?" To say you're surprised would be an understatement. You know he is an art major and that he paints, but all of this is new information. You look around the room once more, there are various kinds of paintings- places, flowers and even people.

"Yeah. I've been trying to show you my work for weeks now, that's why I keep asking to walk you back. I have always wanted to show you my work but didn't get the courage to talk to you personally till the practice." He looks nervous and his mouth forms into a pout. You just let out a laugh as more tears roll down your cheeks at the relief. "Why are you still crying?" He asks slowly as he wipes the tears away and you just laugh.

"So... you're not with someone else?"

He smiles now and shakes his head. "But I want to be..." Your eyes widen and the lump in your throat that was finally starting to dissolve comes back in full force. Seeing your face he starts to laugh.

He faces you, letting go of your hand to hold your face in both of his hands and leaning toward you. Your heart is beating in your chest.

"Dummy, it is you I like. Don't know how or when, but yeah..."

It appears that the act of having someone reciprocate our feelings can be perceived as rather endearing rather than embarrassing.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks slowly, his voice dangerously low.

"How are you so sure I like you back?"

He smirks at you and rolls his tongue in his inner cheek.

"Hmm... let's see how. You just acted like a crazy idiot for a week and told me it is because you thought I was fucking other people." Your face burns up in embarrassment as his smirk turns into a full smile. "Also, you get so extremely flustered every time I come close to you and your face is all red and cute, just like right now."

You close your eyes shut tight at his words, ready to combust.

"I didn't do a good job keeping my crush in control at all huh." You manage to say, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling brightly.

"Absolutely not." The both of you laugh, he pulls your face closer and you hold onto his waist for balance. The lump of anxiety in your throat has turned into a plethora of butterflies.

"So can I kiss you or do you just want to keep staring at my lips like you do every time we dance."

"Oh shut up, Hyunjin."

He laughs and leans in but pulls back at the last minute. You let out a whine in protest.

"I- I just wanted to confirm, I like you and want to date you. Only you. Is that clear?" You just nod, breaking into a smile so big your jaw hurts.

"Also you might be the muse of my paintings."

"What? How many?"

He looks shy. "One?" You raise your eyebrows. "Okay, five."

"Hyunjin wha-"

You never get to finish the sentence as he takes your mouth in his and you've never loved rude interruptions before. Seems like wouldn't mind anything as long as you get to hold and be held by Hyunjin and dance with him through a thousand storms.

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earlycuntsets · 2 months ago

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07/27/2007 sleep train amphitheatre wheatland ca - christine kay

deliciously_red on lj

"got your nose" - michael

#mikey romance #2007 #projekt revolution #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #mikey way #frank iero #ray toro #black parade era #shows

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callmeblake · 1 year ago

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direct link

Projekt Revolution Tour @ Sleep Train Amphitheatre, Marysville, CA. 27/07/07

#one iof thise times when frank does not look like frank to me #and finding that took longer than I wanted it to #2007 #july 2007 #I don't knwo if I'm taggin this theater or not #fix later if I am #projekt revolution #black glove

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timexticksxby · 4 months ago

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Location; Amphitheatre With; Anyone

Calvin hadn't had a good reason to play since arriving at camp. Training, helping out, sleeping off the training, panicking, getting kidnapped in the middle of the night, sleeping off whatever fight he got dragged in to. It was a constant stream of distraction, but when the times got quieter his head got... Well it got louder instead. An anxious little whisper here and there. What if Odin saw you? What if Atropos comes to collect you? What if you can't help anybody because of a dumb decision?

What if you didn't belong here?

So, seeing it there, up on the stage, probably preparations for a show or something, he pushed the thoughts out with something that came far more naturally. Two sticks in hand, it was easy to start playing, a quiet murmur of the lyrics to keep time. No thoughts to who might be around, no thought... At all, really.

"As I move my feet toward your body, I can hear this beat. It fills my head up and get's louder, and louder."

#ft; open #godlingstarters

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ghostwriter-of-silly-things · 11 months ago

Text

I'm Not Delusional, Promise

Word Count: 3,224

Warnings: none i can think of? if i've missed something let me know

I was rather tired of dealing with people by the time the campfire started, even after the solitary meal. Which wasn't that lonely given the screaming children and just... everyone being there. It was safe to say I was ready to go to bed and maybe even sleep, although my dreams of late had been getting decidedly worse, so probably not if I was being honest with myself. That and the fact that I had pretty much not slept since coming to camp, despite the occasional cat nap after training.

I was sitting alone on the amphitheatre steps, the other campers staying away from me. Look, the the thing with Connor was his own fault. Don't sneak up on people -- that should be, like, a rule. Even the rest of the Hermes cabin who I was rooming with were keeping their distance. To be honest it wasn't too bad -- winter was a quiet time for Camp Half-Blood, but it still felt like too much. I was so used to being... not alone, but certainly left to fend for myself, enough that the people I was around weren't too bothersome. This was too real. I mouthed silently the words to the sing-along, my body on autopilot. It ended with rowdy applause, which jolted me back to reality, and Chiron trotted up to address the campers.

"Very nice! And a special welcome to our new arrivals. I am Chiron, camp activities director, and I'm happy you have all arrived here alive and with most of your limbs attached. In a moment, I promise we'll get to the s'mores, but first -"

"What about capture the flag?" somebody yelled. Grumbling broke out from the Area cabin, who were cranky, presumably that they couldn't stab people. I caught Clarisse's eye and gave her an apologetic look. She responded with a roll of her eyes directed at the Hephaestus cabin.

"Yes," Chiron said. "I know the Area cabin is anxious to return to the woods for our regular games."

"And kill people!" one of them shouted.

"However," Chiron interjected. "until the dragon is brought under control, that won't be possible. Cabin Nine, anything to report on that?"

He turned to where the oil-splattered and frankly char-grilled Hephaestus kids sat. Leo winked at Piper and shot her a finger gun, then saw me watching and wiggled his eyebrows before turning to the girl next to him. Nyssa spoke, and her voice was filled with uncertainty and uncomfortableness. "We're working on it."

"How, Nyssa?" Someone demanded.

"Really hard," She said.

The air was immediately filled with sounds of whining and complaining, and the fire sputtered chaotically. This was a good start. Chiron eventually stopped waiting for the campers to quiet down and stamped his hoof on the fire pit stones, and the campers fell silent.

"We will have to be patient. In the meantime, we have more pressing matters to discuss."

"Percy?" Oh for the love of the gods. Over half the campers turned and stared at me accusingly, like I'd personally caused his disappearance. I had been the only new arrival save Leo and co. and that seemed to warrant suspicions.

"What?" I snapped at the kids staring at me. "Why do you think I know anything?"

Chiron sighed, catching the rest of the group's attention, then gestured to Annabeth.

"I didn't find Percy," she announced. Her voice seemed to catch at the back of her throat as she said it. I gulped down the feeling of sympathy that bubbled up inside me. "He wasn't at the Grand Canyon like I thought. But we're not giving up. We've got teams everywhere. Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters of Artemis - everyone's out looking. We will find him. Chiron's talking about something different. A new quest."

"It's the Great Prophecy, isn't it?" I internally groaned, and made a silent prayer to any gods that were listening that I wouldn't be part of any quest for a long while, at least until he adjusted. Unfortunately for me, it nerve usually worked out like that.

Everyone turned to Drew, who, as it turned out, had made the comment.

"Drew?" Annabeth said. "What do you mean?"

"Well, come on." She made it seem like it should be obvious to everyone what she was on about. Because if you didn't know, you were definitely stupid. "Olympus is closed. Percy's disappeared. Hera sends you a vision and you come back with three new demigods in one day. I mean, something weird is going on. The Great Prophecy has started, right?"

I saw Piper whisper something to Rachel, the resident Oracle, before everyone looked at her in waiting.

"Well?" Drew called. "You're the Oracle. Has it started or not?"

Rachel looked more like an Oracle in the firelight. Less crazy art lady, and more serious. She stepped forward calmly despite the situation and said: "Yes. The Great Prophecy has begun." You have got to be screwing with me. I couldn't have just a moment of peace, could I?

The other camper had a less subtle reaction. Yelling and shouting broke out, and I was pretty sure I saw a punch or two thrown. I shrank against my seat discretely and covered my ears, to block out as much noise as I could, and closed my eyes. It didn't go unnoticed by Rachel, though, who looked at me with concern.

It finally subsided, and I breathed heavily for a few seconds. Noise was not my thing.

"For those of you who have not heard it," Rachel began. "the Great Prophecy was my first prediction. It arrived in August. It goes like this:

'Eight half-bloods shall answer the call.

To storm and fire the world must fall-'"

Jason stood up suddenly, as if struck by lightning. Even Rachel seemed off-guard. "J-Jason? What's -"

"'Ut cum spiritu postrema sacramentum dejuremus," he said, half crazed with a wild look in his eyes. "Et hosted ornaments addent ad ianuam necem.'"

Well that's... not normal. I knew Latin, but it was clear that most of the campers had no clue what words Jason had just spat out.

"You just... finished the prophecy," Rachel stammered. " -An oath to keep with a final breath / And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. How did you -"

"I know those lines." He put his hands to his temples, as if trying to remember something vitally important. "I don't know how, but I know that prophecy."

"In Latin, no less. Handsome and smart." Oh do shut up. Drew's outburst was followed by obedient tittering from her cabin. The campfire still managed to look nauseous, despite it being, well, just a campfire.

Jason sat down, and Annabeth gave him a pat on the shoulder. Rachel looked shaken, while Chiron stood grim and silent. I thought of my prophecy, how I'd been told I'd be important to something big. I clearly wasn't getting out of this.

"Well," Rachel said shakily. "So, yeah, that's the Great Prophecy. We hoped it might not happen for years, but I fear it's starting now. I can't give you proof. It's just a feeling. And, like Drew said, some weird stuff is happening. The eight demigods, whoever they are, have not been gathered yet. I get the feeling some are here tonight. Some are not here." She scanned the crowd, her eyes landing on some of the campers and few seconds longer than the others.

"I'm here! Oh... were you calling roll?" Clovis, from Hypnos cabin, had half-woken, bleary and disoriented.

"Go back to sleep, Clovis," someone yelled.

"Anyway," the Oracle continued. "we don't know what the Great Prophecy means. We don't know what challenges the demigods with face, but since the first Great Prophecy predicted the Titan War, we can guess the second Great Prophecy we predict something at least that bad."

"Or worse." Chiron murmured. Everyone overheard the comment. The campfire turned purple and the mood visibly darkened around it.

"What we do know, is that the first phase had begun. A major problem has arisen, and we need a quest to solve it. Hera, the queen of the gods, has been taken." Now that was shocking.

It took a while to get the attention back.

She explained about the incident at the Grand Canyon, the storm spirits' warning that this was only the beginning, and a great mistress that would destroy everyone. Then, Piper passing out in Hera's cabin and Jason's vision.

"Jason, um... Do you remember your last name?"

He shook his head self-consciously.

"We'll just call you Jason then. It's clear Hera herself has issued you a quest." She paused.

"I agree." He nodded tersely.

"You must save Hera to prevent a great evil, some sort of king from rising. For reasons we don't yet understand, it must happen on the winter solstice, only four days from now."

"That's the council day of the gods," Annabeth said. "If the gods don't already know Hera's gone, they will definitely notice her absence by then. They'll break out in fighting, accusing each other of taking her. That's what they usually do."

"The winter solstice is also the time of greatest darkness," Chiron spoke up with this happy news. "The gods gather that day, as mortals always have, because where is strength in numbers. The solstice is a day when evil magic is strong. Ancient magic, older than the gods. It is a day when things... stir."

He managed to make stirring sound like first-degree murder. Happy thoughts.

"Okay," Annabeth glared at him. "Thank you, Captain Sunshine. Whatever's going on, I agree with Rachel. Jason has been chosen to lead this quest, so -"

Someone yelled out from the stone seats. "Why hasn't he been claimed? If he's so important -"

"He has been claimed. Long ago. Jason, give them a demonstration." Chiron announced this gravely, looking Jason right in the eyes, which was unsettling at the best of times.

He stepped forward nervously, and glanced over at Piper, who mimicked flipping a coin. Jason took a virtually nondescript one out of his right pocket, and when he caught it, it was a long golden lance.

"Wasn't that... I thought you had a sword." Annabeth murmured shakily.

"Um, it came up tails I think. Same coin, long-range weapon form."

"Dude, I want one!" Someone shouted.

"Better than Clarisse's electric spear Lamer." Four people had to physically hold back Clarisse from laming him.

Jason murmured something to himself, then raised his javelin. Lightning burst from the tip of his weapon and struck the campfire with, well, a shit-ton of force. I flinched in shock and my ears rang loudly.

"Um, sorry."

"A little overkill, perhaps, but you've made your point. And I believe we know who your father is." Chiron grimaced.

"Jupiter... I mean Zeus. Lord of the Sky."

"Hold it! How can he be he son of Zeus? The Big Three... their pact to not have mortal kids... how could we not have known about him sooner?' Annabeth was confused, and it was clear she didn't like it. Chiron didn't answer.

"The important thing," Rachel interrupted, "is that Jason's here now. He has a quest to fulfill, which means he will need his own prophecy."

She swooned rather dramatically, and was caught by two Apollo campers. She was set down on a stool, her eyes and the smoke that poured from her mouth glowing emerald.

"Child of lightning, beware the earth,

The giants' revenge the eight shall birth.

The forge and dove shall break the cage,

And death unleash through Hera's rage."

Bloom of the lost, lover of old,

Aid of past penance and record unfold."

She collapsed after issuing her prophecy, but was, again, caught.

"Is that normal?" Piper piped up. "I mean... does she spew green smoke a lot?"

"Gods you're dense!" Drew sneered. "She just issued a prophecy - Jason's prophecy to save Hera! Why don't you just -"

"Drew. Piper asked a fair question. Something about that prophecy definitely isn't normal. If breaking Hera's cage unleashes her rage and cause a bunch of death... why would we free her? It might be a trap, or - or maybe Hera will turn on her rescuers. She's never been kind to heroes." Annabeth's contempt for Hera was ever clear.

"I don't have much choice. Hera took my memory. I need it back. Besides, we can't just not help the queen of the heavens if she's in trouble."

Nyssa stood. "Maybe. But you should listen to Annabeth. Hera can be vengeful. She threw her own son - our dad - down a mountain just because he was ugly."

"Real ugly." She sure is making a meal out of this.

"Shut up!" Anyway, we've also got to think - why beware the earth? And what's the giants' revenge? What are we dealing with that's powerful enough to kidnap the queen of the heavens?"

Annabeth and Chiron had a silent, angry conversation.

"It's Jason's quest." She announced, "so it's Jason's choice. Obviously, he's the child of lightning. According to tradition he may choose any two companions."

Chiron shook his head slowly. "On this quest, i think, he needs three."

"What?"

"Just... trust my judgement, Annabeth."

Silence followed for a second. "Well, you obviously, Annabeth. You've got the most experience." Someone called from the stands.

She responded simply. "No. Hera deceived me every time I tried to help her, and I leave tomorrow to find Percy."

"It's connected." Piper blurted out. "You know that's true, don't you? This whole business, your boyfriend's disappearance - it's all connected."

"How? If you're so smart, how?" Drew demanded.

"You may be right, Piper. If this is connected, I'll find out from the other end - by searching for Percy. As I said, I'm not about to rush off to rescue Hera, even if her disappearance sets the rest of the Olympians fighting again. But there's another reason I can't go. The prophecy says otherwise."

"It says who I pick." Jason agreed. "The forge and dove shall break the cage. The forge is the symbol of Vul- Hephaestus."

"If you have to beware the earth, you should avoid travelling overland. You'll need air transport." Nyssa said dejectedly. "The flying chariot's broken, and the pegasi, we're using them to search for Percy. But maybe Hephaestus cabin can help figure out something else to help. With Jake incapacitated, I'm senior camper. I can volunteer for the quest."

Leo stood. "It's me." Some mumbling waved around camp like a Mexican wave. "No, it's me. I know it is. I've got an idea for the transportation problem. Let me try. I can fix this!"

Jason studied him for a moment. "We started this ride together, Leo. Seems only right you come along. You find us a ride, you're in."

"Yes!"

"It'll be dangerous. Hardship, monsters, terrible suffering. Possibly none of you will come back alive." Nyssa said gravely.

"Oh... I mean... Oh, cool! Suffering? I love suffering! Let's do this!"

Annabeth nodded. "Jason, third quest member. The dove -"

"Oh, absolutely!" Oh my gods, does she ever shut up? "The dove is Aphrodite. Everybody knows that. I am totally yours."

"No." In-fighting now. Why won't this ever end?

"Oh, please, Dumpster girl. Back off."

"I had the vision of Hera; not you. I have to do this."

"Anyone can have a vision. You were just at the right place at the right time. Look, fighting is all fine, I suppose. And people who build things... Well, I suppose someone has to get their hands dirty. But you need charm on your side. I can be very persuasive. I could help a lot."

"Well... given the wording of the prophecy -"

"No! I'm supposed to go."

"Get over it! What can Piper do?" She looked smug as Piper offered nothing in response. "Well. I guess that settles it."

A collective gaps echoed. Well damn. Dumpster girl has turned into a beautiful princess. Yayy. Yikers, this is messy.

"What?" Piper demanded. She looked, saw the dress, and yelped. "Oh, god. What's happened?" She sounded genuinely distressed at that point.

"Beautiful." Jason suddenly said. "Piper, you... you're a knockout."

Drew's face was contorted in horror. "No! Not possible!"

"This isn't me! I - don't understand."

Chiron knelt. "Hail, Piper McLean. Child of Aphrodite, lady of doves, goddess of love."

No one quite knew what to do in the moments that followed. Annabeth managed to break the tension.

"There's a fourth person, according to Chiron. So, I guess, the third line? Bloom of the lost? That's... not helpful." She spoke heavily and with uncertainty, not very Annabeth-like.

Jason was silent. He looked around trying to find someone who might fit that description, scrutinizing us.

A wave of sudden dread crashed over me like a tsunami -- a general anticipation of future happenings spiked with uneasiness, a gut instinct I'd learned to listen to. Something was definitely going to go wrong. Maybe for me.

....

Probably for me.

The next thing I knew, assorted greenery had sprouted up around me like a movie, and I was vaguely aware of a golden sort of light shining down. I was not aware I was a Disney princess, but the more you know, I guess.

I cursed under my breath. Of course, I'd never been officially claimed by my mother -- Demeter, in case the plants hadn't been enough of a giveaway -- but I suppose now would be the time to do so. Right before a quest that I was clearly not in well enough shape for. For Christ's sake, Bloom of the lost? Thanks, mum. What sort of stupid cryptic nonsense do I have to be involved with this time? The lover of old bit was also very much unappreciated, a reminder I would happily do without.

I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut in hopes it would all go away. It didn't, obviously, so I stood up, staring straight at Chiron. "It's me, isn't it." My voice shook embarrassingly and I wished I was anywhere else. The obvious nature of my recently highlighted accent was not doing much to help matters.

"I'm afraid it rather seems so -- you had a vision earlier, didn't you," he said gravely. There were a few murmurs, but the old centaur knew a lot of things, and those things would be more than damning evidence of my potential involvement in this quest should they ever come to light, and the camp held a general respect for him that most did their best to uphold throughout the generations. He was the final decisions man, and for him, that sentence was pretty final.

"I think you should come." Jason addressed me directly.

I looked up and sighed. "It's not like I really have a choice, is it?"

prev chapter • series m.list • next chapter

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #hoo #hoo fandom #hoo fanfic #demigods #percy jackson fanfiction #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus fanfiction #leo valdez x oc #jason grace x oc #poly fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #slow burn

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tempestaurora · 4 years ago

Photo

in another time, a gladiator stucky au by @tempestaurora

image IDs under the cut

IMAGE ID:

FIRST IMAGE:

Sunlight dappled across the stone floor, casting cool, dancing shadows in the summer heat. Bucky yawned and stretched, flexing his toes into the sunspots and smiling from the warmth. He watched the newest boy to the school, a scrawny thing called Steve, stand alone in the courtyard.

He tipped his head to the side and called out, “New boy! Over here!”

Steve had straw blonde hair and eyes like the Aegean Sea. He seemed hesitant for a moment before heading over. When he arrived, he looked at Bucky like he might bite, but after sitting, he simply melted into the sunspot Bucky had found.

“You’re pretty small,” Bucky observed. “Your family sell you?”

“What? No, they didn’t.” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed; he seemed insulted by the mere notion. “Your family sell you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Indentured, actually,” he replied. “But they’re practically the same thing. Why are you here, then? You have dreams of being a gladiator?”

Steve scoffed. “No. I don’t. But it was either this or live on the streets.” He paused, twisting his fingers into his tunic. “My mater died, recently. She was all I had.”

Bucky stilled. “Oh,” he said. “Perhaps she is better off now; perhaps she is in the Land of Joy.”

Steve nodded, barely. “There are few places better than the underworld, these days.”

SECOND IMAGE:

ii.

Steve may have been small, but he was fast. He twisted and turned in combat, picked up the skills with ease, and learnt to use his size to his advantage. If he got hit, he was down, so Steve learned to avoid the punches thrown his way.

They trained year-round, through summer heat and winter snow, and soon they grew. Everything Steve learned about being small and fast was discarded when he hit his growth spurt at fourteen, suddenly taller than half his class and finally able to make the attacks, not simply dodge them. He watched Bucky often; the two of them nigh inseparable since his arrival at the school. Bucky was not a golden student, but he was a golden boy; his eyes were like Jupiter’s sky and his hair grew thick and dark in a shaggy mess.

There were few things Steve found himself caring about more than the only boy in all of Italia who knew him, inside and out.

[Beneath is a photo of the ruins of a temple of Saturn, backlit by the sun. It is ethereal and quiet-looking, with green fields interspersed with crumbled architecture.]

THIRD IMAGE:

iii.

They had climbed up onto the roof of the gymnasium to gaze at the sweep of stars painted high above their town.

“Do you think you’ll be up there one day?” Steve whispered in the dark.

“In the sky?”

“The stars,” Steve clarified. “All the great heroes are immortalised in the stars.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be a hero – there’s not a drop of godly blood in me. What about you?”

“I don’t want to be a hero,” Steve replied. “I just want to travel; to see all of Italia and beyond. Pompeii and Corinth – maybe even see the Oracle of Delphi, one day.”

Bucky smiled. “I’d like that. I don’t want to be fighting forever.”

“Come with me,” Steve said. “We could go anywhere. We could go everywhere.”

Bucky stared at Steve under the star-lit sky and smiled.

FOURTH IMAGE:

iv.

When they were eighteen, they moved to Rome. The Ludus Magnus gladiator school sat in spitting distance of the coliseum, and this was where they trained. They had long been learning their preferred style of combat – Steve, after shooting up and broadening, fought as a Thracian, with his broad-rimmed helmet, small rounded shield and curved sword. His only armour consisted of thigh-length grieves, while Bucky was granted a chest plate and greaves as a Dimachaerus, dual-wielding two swords.

They fought regularly in practice, but never in the ring drawn into the sand in front of an audience. There was a palpable fear Steve felt at making Bucky bleed. Some nights, he whispered prayers to whatever god might deign to listen – perhaps Mars, for war, or Venus, for love – and pleaded with them to never pit him against Bucky.

[On the right hand side is a close-up of a temple’s columns, with sunlight poking between.]

FIFTH IMAGE:

Bucky knew Steve was watching from beyond the Gate of Life as he stepped into the ring for his first gladiatorial combat in the arena. Steve had already won his earlier that day in front of roaring crowds and amused royalty in the Emperor’s box.

Now it was Bucky’s turn, and he twisted his swords in his fingers, facing down his opponent across the ring. Bucky knew their job was to fight – fight and possibly even die – but he also knew his job was to give them all a show.

And Bucky was nothing if not a showman.

In the end, blood stained the sand a vivid red, but Bucky strode towards the Gate of Life, triumphant.

SIXTH IMAGE:

vi.

There were always popular gladiators, and Steve didn’t know how to react, finding himself to be one of them. Women lined up outside the bathhouses he frequented; shared rumours that dipping their hairpins in his blood might bring them love, that his sweat would work as an aphrodisiac.

“I can see their point,” Bucky whispered one night, his mouth ravenous against Steve’s after a long day of training. Their bodies were always animalistic in these moments, whilst the school was empty and the others were out drinking the night away. They took everything they could get from each other; swallowed each sensation whole.

Steve never wanted these moments to end. He would throw all the glory and money away for more time with Bucky, for more nights like this.

SEVENTH IMAGE:

vii.

After amphitheatre fights, admirers and buyers alike would flock to the school where the gladiators lounged on cushions and benches, drinking wine and eating expensive foods. These were the nights Bucky enjoyed the most. No one was allowed to approach unless beckoned by a gladiator, and Bucky would often spend time toying with the admirers, allowing one or two over before sending them away again. Eventually, after the show, he’d slip away into the sleeping quarters or empty storage cupboard, and find Steve waiting there for him.

There was a miles-long list of things Bucky loved about Steve’s body, but number one on the list was how it fit against his own in the dark.

[Cut into the left side is a photo of the Coliseum in Rome.]

EIGHTH IMAGE:

viii.

A few days before the festival, culminating in three days of games at the coliseum, their master told Steve and Bucky that they were scheduled to fight.

“It’ll be fine,” they told each other in the dark. “The fights rarely end in death. We’re not fighting to kill. We’re fighting to entertain.”

“We’re performers,” Bucky would say. “We’re just there to give them a good time.”

“Don’t act like no one ever dies,” Steve would reply, each and every time. “Don’t act like we haven’t killed our opponents before.” Sometimes, friends would enter the ring with them and never leave it. Sometimes, the audience called for their deaths.

It was blood lust, through and through. The men caught hold of that first splash of red and couldn’t let it go; they had to see more, they had to see death in all its forms. The gladiator could’ve fought bravely, wonderfully, and they might still end up slumped in the sand afterwards.

“Soon,” they would say, “we’ll retire and leave this for good. Soon, we’ll travel the world, like we always planned.” They would whisper lies and truths to each other, desperately tangling them together until they couldn’t tell them apart.

NINTH IMAGE:

ix.

On the day of the fight, Steve stepped into the ring opposite Bucky and breathed in the cheering crowd; the hot, midday sun. They had kissed in the shadow of the underground corridors, and now faced each other, weapons raised, poised for battle.

It was bloody from the get-go; they were entertainers after all, and the audience was only entertained when they saw the streak of blood dampening the sand. They twisted and turned as if they were dancing, as if there was music playing and this was them, centre stage, having the time of their lives rather than anxiously hoping their blades wouldn’t cut too deep, that the bruises would soon heal.

And then Steve’s sword slashed too harshly at Bucky’s side and he faltered, hissing.

“Bucky—” Steve said, not moving in on the advantage, not moving at all.

Bucky straightened, removing his hand from his side, darkly red. “What are you doing?” Bucky asked, before raising his swords once more. “Fight me.”

“Bucky—”

“Fight me,” Bucky hissed, slamming his swords forward. Steve barely had time to raise his shield. He couldn’t stop staring at the thick blood leaking from Bucky’s ribs.

“No—”

“Steve—”

“No.”

Steve stepped back, feet almost at the ring’s edge. He dropped his shield, his sword to the sand. He held his arms out, palms towards Bucky, and said, “I won’t fight you, Bucky. Not ever again.”

So Bucky took the win, and the crowds jeered at Steve, and the Emperor held his thumb outstretched, unamused by the champion’s surrender.

“You won’t fight me,” Bucky spat, “but you’ll make me kill you instead?”

[Cut into the right hand side is an edited shot of the movie Gladiator; two gladiators rush towards each other to battle, with the crowds filling the stands. Much of the image is in shadow, with streaks of sunlight pouring down from the left side.]

TENTH IMAGE:

The sand was hot beneath Bucky’s feet; no lazy afternoon shadows in the centre of the amphitheatre. In front of him, Steve knelt facing away, his head tipped low to bare the spot at the top of his spine, all smooth skin tanned and unblemished.

The crowds roared around them and Bucky lifted his sword, pressing the tip at the base of Steve’s neck.

Steve flinched and said, just barely loud enough for Bucky to hear: “Perhaps I’ll go to Elysium… I hear there are few places better to be than the underworld, these days.”

But Bucky knew Steve would not go to Elysium. He was a warrior, but he was not dying righteously, not for fighting well. He was dying for surrendering, for caring about Bucky more than himself.

And Bucky—well he cared for Steve more than himself, too. They were the same that way. They always had been.

So Bucky stepped back, lowering his sword in his hand. He looked up to the Emperor, shadowed in his private box, and shook his head.

“I won’t kill you, Steve,” he said, and Steve looked around in surprise, like it was really all that out of character. He held out a hand and pulled Steve to his feet, ignoring the roaring of the crowd, the anger that came from mercy.

“They’ll come for us,” Steve said, eyes wary. “They’ll kill us both.”

With one hand, Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb against his cheekbone, and with the other, he lifted the sword and twisted it. “Let them try,” he said. “But we have plans to travel the world. We’ve got no time for dying, Steve.”

And in the summer heat, they ran for the Gate of Life.

ELEVENTH IMAGE:

[A close up of two marble statues kissing.]

[END OF IMAGE ID]

#stucky #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #bucky barnes #gladiator #long post #talk #this is explicitly for the anon who suggested a gladiator au #also yes it did feel ridiculous writing about ancient rome and then using the names steve and bucky #but what are u gonna do

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inamindfarfaraway · 3 years ago

Text

Camp Half-Blood

The paths are set in cracked stone tiles

(White marble, specifically, to fit the Ancient Greek theme;

Gotta coordinate with all the columns)

But also made, carved in trampled grass and exposed dirt

And there are ‘set’ dirt footpaths too, so it’s hard to tell if there’s really any

Line you cannot cross

Trail you cannot follow

Rules are lax at camp - the bar is at not dying//

Paths to the stables, canoe lake, dining pavilion, strawberry fields, Big House

Armoury, amphitheatre, climbing wall, combat arena

Some paths lead nowhere or are abruptly cut short

Some should never be walked to the end

The muddier ones have footprints:

Light and patterned with varying depths from normal shoes

Heavy and even from armoured boots, after a

Battle training session

Or game of capture the flag

Around the border, muddy patches are more common

New arrivals are easy prey for the monsters; the earth there is often

Damp, rusty, laced with the metallic smell of failure//

Failure also smells like pine needles

The pine tree has been standing for five years

At the very crest of the tallest hill

Now it brushes the stars at night, branches spread wide

Shade, peace, protection, a monument with no engraving, the memory of a sacrifice

Of a fallen friend

These are the reasons the wild grass is always flatter in streaks up the hill

Everyone has something to visit it for

Nobody wants to tell the story to starry-eyed newbies

But they’ll hear it somehow

The tale of Thalia’s tree//

The twelve cabins stand firm and immutable as the gods they represent

Campers come and go

Possessions are brought and taken, lost and found

Building work is done, because gods know everything here breaks eventually

But the cabins, their numbers, their symbols, are constant//

In Cabin Eleven, you can’t see the floor beneath the sleeping bags

A handsome young man jams his sword - a gift - further under his mattress

A little too hastily to match the smile he flashes his siblings

(He doesn’t know yet, but there are lines you cannot cross)

In Cabin Six, a girl turns back and grabs her baseball cap - a gift - before leaving

The movement rustles the layers of blueprints on her desk

She murmurs a promise to achieve great things to the sky

(She doesn’t know yet, but they’re on different paths)

In all the cabins, the pillows bear salty stains

The night echoes with screams and sobs//

The campfire

Where camp feels most like the home it’s supposed to be

Where the kids can say anything they want and be everything they are

Where the night echoes with music and laughter

Sputters and dies

Ashes stick to the stone like when a funeral shroud is burnt

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randgugotur-6 · 3 years ago

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This Day in Metal 🤘

Aug 1st 2009 #JudasPriest played #Rockalottapus at Sleep Train Amphitheatre in Wheatland, California. #JudasPriestHistory #ThisDayInMetal #HeavyMetal

After the third song “Breaking the law” Rob stops for a moment “Look at all the heavy metal maniacs with us tonight!!!! https://t.co/DaRf7Dovhc

#thisdayinmetal #Judas Priest #live performance #heavy metal #hardrock

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finneve · 4 years ago

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Dreamland- part 1

Summary- after being convinced to visit a 1940s’ themed night, Steve Rogers falls in love with one of the performers. but jealous rears its head when he sees Bucky there one night.

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He had wanted to go back, return to what he knew. Finally, to be with the woman he loved. But as he stood on the street where Peggy lived and watched her embrace with her husband, Steve Rogers knew, this time truly held nothing for him anymore. Steve knew he could never live with himself if he were to ruin a happy marriage.

So, he returned to the future, his future. The warm embrace of friends and to the world he had helped save so many times over. Though, he didn’t miss the questioning look he got from Bucky when he had reappeared on the time travel platform only mere seconds after his departure. Bucky had been surprised to see him again at the lakeside.

“What happened?” he asked later when the pair were sharing a drink back at the compound. “Ah, she was happy and in love with someone else,” Steve admitted. “she got married,” Leaning back Bucky let out a low whistle.

“Sorry man,”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve half laughed. Perhaps it was a silly dream to begin with, to think he would be able to go back and slot perfectly back into Peggy’s life. Buck didn’t press any further for more information and for that, Steve was relieved.

Steve resigned himself now to a quieter life. The mantle of Captain America passed onto Sam. In all, Steve was glad to be rid of it. The pressure to constantly uphold truth, honour and justice was a burden lifted from his shoulders, when he gave Sam that shield. While he had been sad to part with it, he knew Sam was the best man for the job. He would still help the team of course, but from more of a logistics point of view. Finally, he was free, but to do what exactly?

Suggestions were made, some jokes at his expense. About the need to get laid or find a hobby. Like collecting fast cars or various properties, like some weird dragon’s hoard. While the idea of driving a nice car did appeal to him, Steve couldn’t see the logic in owning multiples of anything.

“Man, maybe spend some of that money you got stockpiled,” Tony had decried one day. The man had been trying to convince to get into vintage luxury cars, or even some that they could race around a track and waste time and money on.

“That bank account would be looking very healthy these days,” Sam joked, “all that interest from 1945, you’d be a rich man even without stark’s money,”

“Yeah I guess,”

Steve didn’t like the idea of spending money just cause he could. A childhood of being told to save every penny and the depression era combined did wonders for his spend-thrift attitude. No, that money would stay in the bank for now.

It had been Natasha that made a more reasonable recommendation.

“Hey,” she called after him. They had just stepped out of a meeting. Slowing down, Steve allowed her to fall into step beside him.

“Look there’s a place in the city that might help with your nostalgia blues,”

“What the museum?” Steve scoffed. The blond man scratched at his chin in slight annoyance. Not that he didn’t like the museum, but he was sick of seeing that memorial to him as Captain America. While it had been aimed at informing the public about the heroics of him, the Howling Commandos and their wartime exploits, now it just felt empty. Littered with half-truths and faces long gone from this world. It had become an unwanted reminder of what he had lost all those years ago when he was frozen in the ice. Steve knew Bucky too had mixed feelings about it, as it still said that he was dead.

“No, idiot,” though she insulted him, Natasha grinned.

“A club downtown, I think it would be your vibe,”

“What’s the point if I can’t get drunk?”

“The general aesthetic,” the woman just shook her head at him. Snatching up his phone she set about putting her plan in motion.

“There, I put in the address to your phone, it’s a good place for a drink and to relax,” and with a wink the former assassin spun on her heel and strutted away. But the thought of going to some dive bar to get his rocks off was just so unappealing. No there is no way he could go.

However, in the quiet of the night, nightmares haunted his sleep. The flashbacks of Bucky falling from that train, the horrors of wartime Europe, having to say goodbye to Peggy before hurdling into the icy Atlantic, it all swirled through his mind. The replay of falling to stop Thanos, losing Buck again, it made he want to avoid sleep. In in those moments after he wakes in fear that, he pulls up the address of the club on his phone. “Dreamland”, the clubs’ name seemed very poignant right now, giving his troubles with actually sleeping. What could be the harm in checking it out at least once? Rubbing at his eyes Steve shakes the enticement from his head.

But still, he puts it off. Going to the place Nat had suggested. Not wanting to give in to the temptation of nostalgia. Still the nightmares persist. Every night he wakes in cold sweat, showers and proceeds to walk the somewhat quiet streets. Something to keep the nightmares at bay. He wandered more and more.

Again, he looks at the address. Hmm only a street away, he thought pensively. Maybe a quick look and a drink wouldn’t hurt. At least then when Natasha questions him over it, he can say it just didn’t work. But as he stood before it, suddenly the pieces fell into place. At the top of the arch, a bright neon sign. In cheery pink, the word “Dreamland” glowed.

A cabaret club?

“You’ve got to be joking Nat,” Steve voiced his thoughts. Loud enough for an older woman hurrying past to give him a quizzical stare. A burly bouncer sat aside the door. The mountain of a man looked Steve up and down.

“The show’s nearly over pal,”

Steve just shrugged. Even only a few moments of respite would be heaven-sent. He paid the admission and finally entered the club. Down the rabbit hole of a corridor. Soft coloured lights shimmered off the wall as he moved further in. The clamour of the club carried out to his ears.

A decent sized room opened before him. Steve rubbed at his eyes, a wave of shock creeping over. Nat had been right, of course. This unassuming place appeared to be an almost exact replica of old club from the 40s’. Art deco stylings had been made. Soft warm lights illuminated the space well. What looked to be a fully stocked bar crowded much of the back wall. Waitresses dressed like cigarette girls bustled around taking drink orders and selling other items, like candy or chewing gum. From the stage the swinging, soulful notes of jazz reverberated around the room. A real jazz band rather than music that was blared over a speaker system. A nice touch, he thought as he slid up against the dark wood bar.

“What can I get you honey?” the barmaid’s toothy smile was sweet enough.

“Ah, just a beer, does matter which,” he shrugged, setting down enough bills to pay for said beer.

“sure thing,”

Upon its arrival, Steve took a swig of the beer. He nodded his thanks. Maybe he should have brought Bucky, he would have gotten a kick out of seeing this club done up like it was 1941. The music had kicked up as two dancing girls pranced around the stage, to a cheery jazz tune. Though Steve wasn’t sure of the actual song. They were a pretty sight. Big smiles and glimmering eyes shone brighter still as they twirled and danced their set. Their red costumes dazzled and gleamed up under the bright stage lights.

Taking the empty table, Steve sipped at the beer. Argh, the craft beer was not worth the price. But he sipped again, after he had just paid ten dollars for it, even though the alcohol won’t affect him. The beer in his hand would not make him feel so out of place amongst the other patrons.

As he sat, nursing the beer, Steve allowed himself to glance around the room. Nat had been right. This place truly felt as if it had been plucked straight out of time and thrown back down, unchanged, untouched in the last 70 years. How easily this could have felt like cheap imitation. Unnoticed by the modern eye but The art deco stylings on the wall continued around the whole bar. Plush velvet booths had been pushed back against the walls and set with a singular soft light. The rest of the open space before the stage was scatted with tables and chairs, creating an almost amphitheatre around the performance space.

Even a thin haze of smoke emanated around the space, giving off that dreamlike quality to it all. Briefly he wondered where the smoke came from, as Steve was positive you could no longer smoke cigarettes indoors. A machine perhaps. His best friend would enjoy this, a brief glimpse back in time. Bucky would utterly indulge in the spectacle, drink in the ambience of it all. Be glad to be reminded of the times before they shipped off to the war, until memories of what happened after plagued him once more.

His fingers picked at the label on the beer. A minor way of venting frustrations that really didn’t alleviate anything of the feelings Steve had swirling around his mind. But he sipped at the beer once more. He might as well stay until closing and then continue with his insomniac walking.

The final notes of music played out, as the girls dipped into a bow. A table of men down the front whooped and cheered for the pair as a smattering of polite applause rippled out from those closest to the stage. Steve took another swig of the beer. He allowed himself to wonder what the next act would be, if it too would be a poor attempt to capture past nostalgia. The din of the other patrons rambled and pitched the time between the acts came to an end.

The red lighting altered, filling the room with a cool blue hue. Soft tones of a piano filled the air as the crowd fell into a collective hush. Even the rowdy men at the front table had fallen into hushed whispers. Looking back at the stage, he wondered what act would get such a reaction from the gathered crowd.

As if out of thin air, there she appeared, alone on the stage. Agape, Steve barely heard the announcer call her name. he couldn’t help but stare at the vision before him. Soft hair perfectly coiffed and curled, soft plump lips painted a deep red. Clearly an effort to make her into a siren of the 1940s had been made.

Slowly the piano was joined by a mellow tune of a trumpet and string instruments harmonise along. Slowly as the music warms up the woman on stage began to sing. Unexpectedly Steve can’t tear his eyes away. The sweet dulcet tones that spilt from her, struck him to the core. He couldn’t move; but sit transfixed on 1940’s dream. On how the silk of her dress fell over her hips, how soft and inviting her skin seemed to be as it shone under the bright stage light. Through the steady beams of light, the soft material appeared almost see-through. It made her look otherworldly and gorgeous. Delicate in a certain unspoken way and to Steve’s utter shock, it stirs him.

She glides over the stage, floating like an ethereal being. Steve leans forward, gaze fixed on this utter vision. Her tour of the stage stops almost directly in front of him. A smirk graces her features. Her eyes piercing as if into his very soul, making him come undone with just a look. Her hips bopped to the soft melody, as she twirled back to the piano.

Her own gaze didn’t waver or falter, even splayed out over the piano. She eyes him with subtle curiosity. Still that smile beamed off her. Her form pushed off the piano, allowing her to take centre stage once more. The final beats of the melody rung out from the band as her fingers grazed over the mic stand.

“Dream a little dream of me,”

As her song finishes and her voice cooed the last few notes, she eyes him again and with a sly wink, she smiled. To an eruption of applause, the vixen did bow. Before exiting, her eyes scan over the room before seeming to land on him. Even from his seat, Steve could see they were the most brilliant shade of (y/e/c). A wink, a smile. She bounced with a girlish grin before disappearing off the stage. An eruption of applause still followed her.

Dumbstruck, Steve still stared after her, to the place where she had vanished from sight. Instantly his mind was racing. As his eyes darted around the bar, a million questions seem to flood his brain, all clamouring to make it impossible to answer a single one. Who was that singer? Why had it taken nearly a decade to hear about this place? Had he been under some rock since waking from the ice? What was her name? My, how that was an important question. Steve had to know her name. Oh, how he wanted her all for his own.

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amuseoffyre · 4 years ago

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top five holidays

Ooooh. Tough call. In no particular order:

1 - my Silk Road trip, taking in 8 cities in three countries. It was hot and sticky and exhausting, but fascinating and I’m dying to go back. So much history! So many sites! I handled 300+ year old pottery and tile shards! I ate the best bread I have ever tasted, still hot from the oven! I spoke badly pidgin Russian :D Finishing with a luxury day in Istanbul including a swanky restaurant and a full hammam spa treatment was a perfect ending to a lovely trip.

2 - my 5-week New Zealand and Australia trip. Mostly the New Zealand part. Don’t get me wrong, Australia is nice enough and I really enjoyed Kata-Tjuta and the Great Ocean Road, but New Zealand is another level (despite their crappy train service. How can you be 15 minutes late to the first station on the route??) I’ve only ever seen one country which is so staggeringly beautiful so consistently. Also, of course, Hobbiton.

3 - Speaking of one other country, Iceland :) @yukinojou and I did a week long trip around the south coast in 2015. The weather may be a game of russian roulette, but the moments when the sun comes out it is frankly some of the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen.

4 - Going back a few years now, my second trip to Japan, we ventured way up into the mountains to Takayama. Quite honestly, it was one of the most tranquil, serene places I have ever been in my life. I would happily go back and spend a full week there, just chilling and sleeping on futons in traditional rooms. We also did a side-trip to Koya-san, which was spectacular but marred by being cold and wet and giving me a bout of flu.

Hm. Picking a fifth is tricky. I mean, there’s the time I ate fresh pastries in the ruins of a Roman amphitheatre in Hungary or breakfasting with squirrels at sunrise in the grounds of a Viennese palace or having goulash 200m underground in a salt mine or finding hidden little treasures in the backstreets of Ronda.

5 - Despite the fact I got the worst food-poisoning of my life (on my birthday no less), I’ll go with Istanbul. I loved it. I intend to go back there as soon as is possible. The layers of history, the architecture, the food, the exuberantly friendly locals who are always extra nice (even when some of them think white Europeans don’t know how to haggle. Oh bish, don’t try me. I’m Hella Cheap) and the food! It may have poisoned me for a fortnight, but it was so good.

#holibagging #travel

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greenhatsinthesky · 4 years ago

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lockdown film no. 33 - Gladiator (2000) dir. Ridley Scott

13/05/2020

- I saw this film the first time when I was maybe 13? My dad decided that it was time for me to watch this Oscar winning epic, but we had to watch it in two parts because it was so long, and pretty damn violent for squeamish, baby me. Me and Dad managed this all in one, seven years later

- the opening is… really something isn’t it

- (just found out it was filmed in Surrey. Gutted)

- I got shivers right through to my scalp when he made that first speech to his soldiers that ends with “Brothers — what we do in life echoes in eternity.” Genius (there’s a chance it was because my room is the temperature of the arctic but nonetheless it was very moving)

- I had a foley workshop this morning and my tutor was talking about how foley should be subtle, but often the sounds need to be exaggerated so we’re absolutely sure that what we’re hearing is what we’re meant to be hearing. Likely because I came in with that mindset, they went absolutely ham thick on the foley for the opening battle scene

- “Enough of politics. Let us pretend that you are a loving daughter, and I am a loving father” — the fact that this line was said quite gently by Richard Harris’ Caesar Marcus Aurelius makes it so heartbreaking because there is absolutely no pretence that their family’s relationship is outrageously dysfunctional, and that’s not even getting onto the incest

- Joaquin phoenix is great in this. When he’s told he isn’t going to be emperor he’s like a stroppy kid who just wants to make his dad proud of him and now he’s a psychopath. That scene’s fantastic anyway, I love how the statue of caesar is right on commodus’ shoulder the whole way through, and really oppressive after commodus has killed Marcus Aurelius

- also fun fact about that scene — apparently phoenix was so stressed out about shooting it that he fainted right after they cut

- the little *fwoop* when he flipped the sword over was a bit much and then saying “the frost. Sometimes it makes the blade stick” before slicing the other guy felt a bit too bondy for this but you know what ? I respect the swagger

- there was an absolutely ineffable sense of dread and pure terror when the roman army was approaching maximus’ home and his son was running and waving thinking it was him. I hated that bit

- “those giraffes you sold me. They won’t mate. They just walk around eating, and not mating. You sold me… queer giraffes.” Whoever wrote this deserves every Oscar this film won, and I want it framed in my kitchen

- I enjoy the fact that they could have so easily done a training montage gladiator style when Maximus had been bought by proximo. Instead they took time to get a bit more into his character and for us to meet juba and the other gladiators. We didn’t need to see him training as a gladiator, that’s not what we’re here for. This film isn’t about fighting — sure, it’s got some great scenes in the colosseum which are entertaining to watch, and there’s stacks of gratuitous violence, but I feel in this case it’s warranted because you can’t get away from the brutality of the games in this context. The film itself is more about Maximus as a general, a gladiator, a husband, father and person and how he relates to the ever conflicting idea of “Rome” and the permanent violence it seems to require to keep that idea going under the reign of commodus. Maximus was required to kill in the army, but there it felt like it was for a purpose: to protect the idea of Rome and the emperor and the people that he cares—here he is required to kill just because he is required to kill. That would obviously change the dynamic but it says a lot about his character that he doesn’t seem to have any qualms about killing a person he doesn’t know for the entertainment of more people he doesn’t know and will likely never meet

- when Maximus walks through the cage it exactly mirrors the opening scene and him walking by all his soldiers as they salute him as their leader and I really liked that

- “i did not say I knew him, I said he touched me on the shoulder once” — why does this film have so many relatable lines

- one of my favourite things about this film is essentially nothing to do with the film itself, and it’s how my dad will yell stuff from it at opportune moments. When I was learning to drive and going round corners, he would say “hold the line” like Maximus does in the amphitheatre. once, when we were climbing up a hill and it got a bit steeper near the top and I got a bit more tired and started to slow, he clapped me on the shoulder, pointed up the hill and yelled “STRENGTH AND HONOUR! HOLD THE LINE! STAY WITH ME!” just to encourage me up this hill and I love him so much for it

- absolutely cannot stand the bit in the chariot fight where the archer woman gets fully sliced in half. Couldn’t deal with it in 2013 and can’t deal with it now

- fun fact this film got the thumbs up thumbs down thing the wrong way round. In the scene where maximus’ identity was revealed to commodus, he moves his hand from a neutral position to his thumb pointing upwards, which means that he is sparing maximus. Often the emperor would use this code to signal to the winning gladiator if they should kill the loser. However, apparently thumb down didn’t mean “finish them”, it actually meant “throw down your weapon”, and the thumb pointing upward was meant to symbolise the sword thrusting up into the loser’s body. However this might also might be incorrect, I have not by any means done extensive research

- “it vexes me. I am terribly vexed.” Another classic dad quote

- just ruminating on ancient rome. Legitimately cannot imagine a worse occupation than being a gladiator. I’m sure if I thought about it a bit more I’d think of worse jobs, but right now, this is the one

- they used… real tigers for the scene with Tigris ??? Not happy about that. First of all, how ?

- I love the constant talk of the dream that was Rome, and the constant talk in tandem of the mob and how fickle they are. There is the dream that is Rome and there is the reality of the fickle mob. They obviously can’t coexist but those everyone we meet wants something better, in some way

- I don’t know if phoenix made a conscious decision about his speech but it really fit with what I said before about him being a petulant child because his speech didn't sound completely developed and reminded me of a child’s speech in how he pronounces certain letters. It adds so much to the character because he is a completely abhorrent person who wants to sleep with his sister and have a pure blood heir, have complete control over the roman empire and kill anyone who comes between his dream of what that empire could be under him. But then at the same time he sounds like a kid who’s not getting his own way

- I do not want a snake in my bed

- ‘“Strength and honour,” Maximus said to Juba. The two men smiled and rested their foreheads together.’ I did beam at this bit

- apparently proximo was meant to live in the original version of the film, but Oliver reed died during production, before all his scenes were filmed, so his character had to be killed. The last shot of him is from the back, so we don’t see his face, and a shot from earlier where he says “shadows and dust” is cut in right before he dies. The film was dedicated to reed’s memory

- OH another thing I Loved about commodus was how he had a white horse, and white armour in the final battle with maximus, while maximus has black armour, which is the standard. Because commodus has such an idea of who he is, and in his mind, he is Rome’s saviour, even though he knows full well he doesn’t have any of the qualities of a good emperor. White is typically the colour used to signify that a character is good, and pure, etc. so I really enjoyed the inversion of that to show commodus’ character and the character he wants Rome to see

- this isn’t a film about violence, it’s about a philosophy

- one last thing is that when I rewatch films to write up these things, I often skip parts because I get the gist of what’s going on and I don’t need to watch the whole thing. With this, even though it was 2 hours 35, I watched the whole thing, and I think that says a lot about how good a film it is

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tactyl-ymon · 4 years ago

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DnD session recap - Service and Struggle

I’d been trying to write this recap since mid december because god there’s just so many emotions in game at the moment and it’s very draining to write about. We got a new barbarian and lost one of the rogues as they had to move interstate

We open with a lone figure paddling through an otherwise still ocean as the moonlight silhouettes a large country that wasn't there a month ago. The figure, drawn forward by a feeling in their gut that this is where they're supposed to be, makes landfall and begins lumbering through the forest as fast as her turtle like legs will allow. It is hours of running peppered with the occasional break to curse whoever thought making towns so far apart was a good idea before our new friend sees the telltale signs of town gates, a place called Merigan it seems. As the guards size up the towering tortle laden with weapons, they shakily ask the barbarian her name and what business she has. Donna Tello Tortellini introduces herself and says she's just looking for a place to sleep for the night, the guards look warily at her large frame and then mention if she's got coin there's a tavern nearby that probably had a room, otherwise there's a stable a few streets away if they promised not to cause a ruckus, the last group they had let camp there were just a constant bother to the guards and town in general whenever they came through.

Donna Tello asks about the group and it being another in a long line of slow nights the guards escort her towards the tavern, surely nobody could be that much of a nuisance? The guards tell her all about the wicked group that calls themselves Tactyl Y'mon, about the time they had pretended to be ghoulish monsters attacking the town gates and the time they'd arrived with a lively boulder that was very protective over a busted old cart that they wouldn't let anyone get near and the time they had managed to save several townsfolk including the town leaders wife and then tossed his house after staying there the night and got several of the guards drunk, stole one of their pants and jumped through a familys roof before screaming and jumping through their window. As Donna Tello thanks the guards for the hopefully tall tales and mentions she'll definitely try to avoid the group if she can, she enters the tavern for the night and to think about where she might find some decent coin to help her explorations.

It's just before dawn the following day as Eridol is startled awake by the telltale whines of his dog signaling that he needs to go out before the very not telltale sound of his dog screaming about how he needs to pee. Which is enough to slip Eridol's already shoddy grasp on reality with everything that's happened the last few days, this has to be a dream … or insanity, who cares, best to just throw away the whole suitcase of emotions at this point and take his suddenly very talkative dog for a walk. The important questions are asked on their jaunt through the keep, “Could you always talk and were just shy?” “If this were fake, you'd tell me right Pickle?” “Where do you enjoy pats the most?” It's around here that Eridol gets a very familiar reality check in the shape of a golden dragonborn standing just outside the gates of the keep talking to one of the guards, former friend and one time follower of the god of murder, Drackuss.

With nowhere to run, no weapons to defend himself and no backup Eridol is faced with doing the one thing he swore he would never do, have an emotional conversation with someone who shattered his trust. But Eridol still has his last trump card to get out of the conversation. Freeze up and become unresponsive. Whether Drackuss actually notices or not is irrelevant, the former paladin barrels through what amounts to an apology for how he acted when he tried to brutally disembowel one of their companions before going on a one man murder quest across the country, but how Eridol was part of stopping him doing awful things and he owes the small cleric for that. Eridol breaks and shouts that as far as he is concerned nobody owed him anything, whatever help Eridol gave was balancing a ledger or trying to make up for his own failings. Repayment for all the times that Drackuss had saves the party from otherwise lethal blows. Repayment for Eridol being too far in his own head to notice anything was wrong. Repayment for one of the earliest memories Eridol has of the dragonborn spending days in a rundown church trying to save sick children from a plague. That version of Drackuss deserved a second chance to make his own path but Eridol didn't have to be a part of it and that if Drackuss actually cared what Eridol thought they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Several familiar shapes creep into the periphery during the silence that follows. The remaining members of Tactyl Y'mon, Whisky, Veiraen, Septima and Emmi wander up from the keep as Core, the groups sometimes government contact and Sukaren, a very imposing blue dragonborn who had been in charge of the front lines to the entry portals to the country march up from behind Drackuss. Core begins by formally thanking the group for everything they had done to shift the country back into the prime material plane and that word had gotten around that the group was at least partially responsible for the shift, people were calling us champions and the like and that there would be some exhibition matches being held in the main city and the group was invited to participate in two back to back. That one would offer a much larger challenge, but if the group could come out victorious in both they'd receive a significant reward for the show.

Core also goes on to mention that there seems to have been some unforeseen fallout from the whole fabric of reality shifting back into place thing. Hundreds of criminals seemingly disappeared in an instant at the time of the shift back to the material plane. Murderers, cultists, thieves all set to wither in the dark for the rest of their lives gone in an instant with no evidence of what happened and with the official business out of the way, Core suggests walking to the nearest town to spend the rest of the day drinking all of that away like the semi-functional alcoholic sponge he is, the group not ever really needing a reason to drink but having just so many they could choose from decide to go with him. Drackuss shrugs, mentioning that he did what he needed to and that Sukaren and him were heading back to Principium to continue training.

As the two lumbering lizards retreat back to their training regiment, half of the group wanders into the keep to put on pants leaving Core and Emmi standing outside in awkward silence as the last moments of dawn fade away. With nobody else around, Core once again mentions that Emmi’s mother, Sharona really wants to talk to her as soon as possible. That she has so much to apologise for and that she had a plan to find out what happened to Emmi’s father all those years ago. That if Emmi was willing, Sharona would be waiting outside of Principium on a ship for the next week. The silence that follows is almost deafening as she considers the chance in front of her. Inside the keep, Veiraen approaches Eridol and asks if he really meant what he said about Drackuss, that everything he’d done was just rebalancing a ledger and whether that extended to how he thought about the rest of the group. Eridol still not quite over everything that happened outside quietly says that he doesn’t know, that he genuinely cares about everyone and is so afraid of losing people he cares about again. Eridol realises what he said and stiffens before taking a breath and apologising. Everyone deserved better than he could offer, but that he would be a better friend if Veiraen would give him another chance. Veiraen agrees before asking if he could stab Eridol again for funsies and the status quo of bickering siblings is restored like nothing happened.

Several hours and jugs of grain alcohol later, the group find themselves in a tavern inside Merigan and are alternating between loudly trying to guess what they’d face in the fight pits with Core and how to best announce their awesomeness to the waiting crowd, it’s around the third shout of ‘We’re Tactyl Y’mon, we could fight a swan” that the shouts get the attention of the large tortle barbarian who had been sitting at the bar who with the fading memories of the guards saying to avoid the group, she gets up and introduces herself, saying that she had overheard the group was going to be in some upcoming exhibition matches at the main city’s amphitheatre and that she was a decent fighter and was looking to gather some gold for her travels if the group thinks they could use the extra set of hands in the fights. This is basically all the group needs to hear before collectively welcoming her to the rag tag family and then several rounds later getting around to asking her name. With introductions out of the way and a new friend made, the group staggers slowly back to the keep, singing songs the whole way.

In the coming days, the group train half heartedly before making their way to the capital city of Principium. They enter the familiar halls of the arena that the exhibition matches are held in to raucous applause and quickly take a win in the first fight, much to the joy of the crowd watching. A quick break later and they re-enter for the second match. Whatever the group was expecting is blown out of the air as from the other side of the arena enters faces very familiar to the group. Core, Sukaren, Drackuss, Rorstaad the council member, an old lizardfolk monk ally and a lumbering form of a hill giant with a grudge against the party’s cleric all appear across from them and against the superior combatants and the well oiled teamwork of their opponents Tactyl Y'mon quickly begin to fall. Eridol and Emmi fall within seconds, Veiraen temporarily falls shortly after but by the time he gets his footing again there isn’t anything that can be done. It is only 20 seconds after the fight begins that it ends. Sukaren spits that their time is worth more than mopping up such disappointing fodder. The crowd watching all of this sits deathly quiet, no cheers, no boos, no movement as Tactyl Y’mon quietly leaves the arena, thoroughly defeated by their betters.

Minutes later in the waiting room of the fight pit, Tactyl Y’mon sit and lick their proverbial and literal wounds as Core and Sukaren enter and as Core splits off to speak with Emmi, Sukaren attends to everyone else in what amounts to a “I am both mad and disappointed in all of you” conversation she goes over how this proved to her that the group is not worthy of the champions/defenders of the realm status that the commonfolk believed about them. They were nothing but mercenaries who had bumblefucked their way to success, idiots with no real skills or teamwork, just lucky that they hadn’t faced a serious threat. Sukaren dared any one of them to prove her wrong, to say something that would justify how poorly they just performed. We leave the session with Core and Emmi having a whispered conversation about what’s really important and Emmi rushes out of the room in between all the shouting, making her way to a ship docked nearby, wordlessly hugging her mother before helping her pull up the anchor and pointing the ship towards the setting sun over the ocean.

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