#control his own flaws. Because just leaning on one side of the coin (sorry) a bit too hard and trying to ignore the other half

[wander-clover]

Forced Normalcy

[what-if-i-imagine]

Hey darling, do you think you could do a DamiJon one shot with the sentence starter "Are we on a date right now?" Where Damian is very oblivious to his and Jon's feelings and doesn't understand crushes/love much to Jon's frustration?

Sorry This took so long! It doesn’t exactly match up with the last pat of the prompt, but here you go!

It was a sunny day, as was the usual for the bright and busy city of Metropolis, and Damian swore he was the only one for miles who was not enjoying the lack of cloud cover and gloomy weather. Everyone they passed by on the streets wore blinding smiles and talked with too much enthusiasm for a Monday afternoon. People waved at strangers and stopped for street performers, and in general acted as the Utopian image of city life.

Damian almost found himself missing the dark and very real streets of Gotham. Almost.

Of course,  that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying the day so far.

At that particular moment, he was walking down a sidewalk with a certain Kryptonian boy who was laughing far too hard for someone who hadn’t been told a joke.

“The acting was unrealistic, the CGI was terrible and the props and costumes were the work of anmitures,” Damian persisted, still hung up on the awful movie they had gotten out of half an hour before. It had been the newest installment in the Sunrise series, and it was so bad Damian would have been at a loss for words if he were forced to watch just five more minutes.

He had only gone to see it in the first place because Jon had loved the first movie and he, Raven and Todd had all loved the books. If the books were anything like the movie had been, Damian would have to have a serious talk with his friends and brother about their taste in media.

“Stop laughing, I’m serious,” Damian huffed, but despite his annoyance he was fighting a smile of his own.

“It’s good bad,” Jon said through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and clutching his side.

“That wasn’t ‘good bad’ it was a disgrace to all of cinema!” Damian scoffed. “I knew you were tasteless, but I had no clue it was this atrocious.”

“You just aren’t getting it because you’re taking it too seriously,” Jon insisted. “If you stop looking at it as an actual romance and look at it from a comedic angle, it’s the best thing ever.”

“The protagonist was bland, her love interests behaviors were unrealistic, and the message of the story is disgusting,” Damian continued to list off the movie’s flaws.

“Damian, stop for one second,” Jon said, finally freed of his laughter. “Remember, we aren’t the intended audience. The intended audience is teenage girls. It wasn’t meant for a message, it was meant for escapism and wish fulfillment for its intended audience. When you keep that in mind, it’s an absolute masterpiece.”

“Tt, whatever you say farm boy,” Damian rolled his eyes. He checked his watch while Jon laughed a little more. “We still have three hours before we have to meet Drake and the Clone.”

“Perfect,” Jon bounced. “That means we have time to stop by the arcade, sweets shop and my favorite cafe!”

“If you insist,” Damian sighed.

“Don’t be like that, I’ve had this day planned for weeks!” Jon whined, tugging on his arm. “I even did extra chores this week so we would have enough money.

“You could have just asked me to bring my wallet,” Damian said.

“Nu-uh, there is no way I’m letting you pay for our first outing together,” Jon shook his head.

“This isn’t our first-” Damian was quickly cut off as Jon pulled him into the arcade, his super speed and strength slipping ever so slightly so that he had to rub his arm and catch his breath afterwards. By the time he regained his balance, Jon had rushed over to the coin machine and was feeding in a twenty he had earned from mowing the lawn and washing the dishes.

When he came back, he took Damian’s hand and dumped about half of the coins into it with a grin. He had been practically glowing ever since they had met up that morning, an effect that Damian could easily write off as being due to the shining sun and not his presence, as Drake had insisted. Even inside the arcade, shaded and away from the sun, the fifteen year old was still shining brighter than any of the neon lights around them.

Damian just shook his head but relented as Jon dragged him around the arcade, showing off his gaming skills and earning tickets. Damian was decent at most of the games, but was too unused to the mode of gaming compared to the consuls he played on with his family to truly be any good. He would never admit that out loud of course. It would go right to Jon’s head he was sure.

Damian had run out of coins and only had a fistful of tickets by the time Jon was down to his last two had had a plastic bag filled.

For his last game, Jon took Damian by the hand and pulled him towards an arm wrestling game that reached to the ceiling with a bell at the top. Damian had seen such a game in a cheesy movie Brown had shown him and the rest of the family. After asking his father more about the game, he was informed that, as many carnival games were, it was completely rigged and impossible to win.

“Those don’t actually work you know,” Damian said, leaning against the machine with an unimpressed raise to his brow. “Even for your strength it won't budge.”

“Want to bet?” Jon asked, his grin growing wider, a far cry from the shy and timid Jon Kent and much closer to the Superboy he knew from their late night escapades.

Damian snorted but gave a single nod. A simple dip of his chin, never breaking eye contact.

“All of the loser’s tickets to the winner?” Jon asked.

“Whatever you say,” Damian agreed.

Jon rolled up his sleeves and, gaze still on Damian, took hold of the fake hand and started the simulated arm wrestling contest.

Damian actually gave a jump when he felt something rush past him inside the machine and hit the bell at the top with an almost deafening ding ding ding!

While he stared wide eyed up at the bell, Jon cheered and collected the tickets spilling out from the machine into his plastic bag. When Damian turned back to him, still slightly in shock, Jon was holding out his hand expectantly with a self satisfied smirk.

“The machine must be broken,” Damian said as he handed them over.

“Whatever you say,” Jon teased. After taking the tickets, he took Damian’s hand again and went up to the prize counter to feed the tickets into a machine to get a receipt. He handed off said recit to a tired looking teenager, only a year or so older than Damian, bouncing on his heels.

“Could I have that bear?” he asked, pointing up to the ceiling. Damian followed his finger’s direction and found a large bear that was at least five feet tall hanging from the ceiling. It had a superman symbol on it’s chest in the shape of a heart, which was more than enough to make Damian roll his eyes. It was very much something the young Kent would waste his tickets on as a gag with his family.

The teenager behind the counter smiled through their clear as day lack of sleep and scanned both the recibt and the little sign that announced the bear’s price. He had to pull over a ladder and get a long hooked pole to unloop the bear from where it was hung up, and struggled with handing it to Jon over the counter.

As soon as the bear was in his arms, though, Jon immediately pushed it to Damian’s chest. He struggled at first, with the bear being as big as himself, but managed to get a good hold on it and look around it to furrow his brows in question.

“I won it for you,” Jon said like it was obvious. “If you need me to carry it it can.”

“I am perfectly fine carrying the monstrosity on my own,” Damian said. “You couldn’t have chosen a more impractical gift?”

“It's not an impractical gift,” Jon said. “It’s cute.”

“Can it not be both?” Damian asked, but relented in following Jon out of the arcade the fastest he could with the monstrous stuffed animal in his arms.

“Sweets shop or cafe next?” Jon said allowed, though it was clear he was asking himself.

“We only have time left for one of the two,” Damian said after checking his watch again.

“Cafe it is then!” Jon said. He guided Damian back down the Metropolis sidewalk, pointing out different stores and vendors along the way as he told stories about them. Damian only heard half of the stories, his sight too focused on Jon’s lit up and expressive face for any of his other senses to properly function.

Halfway through a story about a noodle store he liked to visit with his older brother, Jon noticed Damian’s staring. He ducked his head, his cheeks flaring bright red, and Damian couldn’t help but give the smallest of smiles at the reaction.

The rest of the walk to the cafe, Jon’s voice was back to its usual shy softness as he chatted on about the city he so clearly loved. Damian didn’t stop his staring, but did end up lost in his own thoughts about the past years’ events.

He could still very clearly remember the day when he was thirteen and his father had carefully sat him down in his study for a talk. During that talk, he was told of one of the most disturbing things yet to happen in his life, which was saying something considering his childhood.

Through dimension hopping events that Damian never bothered to understand, Jon had gone from ten years old to seventeen overnight. He was different now that he was so much older, and Damian found a hole grow in his chest from the loss of his closest friend.

The event was possibly the thing that finally cemented his bond with Drake, and they had both lost their kryptonian friends under circumstances completely out of their control. The only problem Damian saw with the bonding they had done was that Drake had gotten Conner back. Not only had he gotten him back, but the two had started dating not too long after his return, which brought Damian an odd sense of jealousy he had never been able to understand.

After a year of consideration between himself and his parents, Jon had gone to Zatanna for help in reversing his physical age. The magician had agreed, but had only been half successful in her daunting task. The next time Damian saw Jon, he was only a year younger than him, still with his ever present height advantage, now coupled with his mental age.

Damian was still ashamed when he remembered his initial reaction of slamming the door in Jon’s face. He had refused to speak to the Kryptonian for months on end, so unsure of how to feel about the entire situation he had found himself in. He had gotten his friends back, but he wasn’t sure if he was still really his friend.

He still wished that his family could have stopped being so damn unconditionally supportive for one moment and knocked some sense into him so he could have accepted Jon’s returned presence in his life earlier than he actually had.

It had been a year since the two had fully reunited, apologies coming from both ends despite Damian’s admit denial that Jon had anything to apologize for. He was big enough to admit he had been the one fully in the wrong even though everyone repeatedly told him his reaction was perfectly reasonable for a fourteen year old presented with such a stressful situation. Even at sixteen, he couldn’t understand Jon’s easy forgiveness of his behavior.

“Dami?” Jon pulled him from his thoughts gently, cheeks faded to a much softer pink, but the blush still clearly present.

“I’m okay,” Damian nodded, ignoring the clear pull in his chest. Jon had been so gentle with him the past year no matter how much they had both moved on, and it was enough to drive him crazy “You were saying?”

“We’re here,” Jon smiled, nodding to the cafe now in front of them.

Damian gave a small smile in return and followed Jon to the outdoor table he claimed to be his favorite. While Jon placed their orders at the front, Damian set the super bear up in one of the seats at the table. He pulled out his phone while he waited, finding texts from Grayson, Todd and Brown all asking him a variation of ‘how’s the date going?’

Damian responded to all the texts from his prying siblings with ‘it’s not a date’ and put his phone away again to look around at the others sitting outside of the cafe.

There were a few younger high school and older middle school students hanging around the tables and benches outside the cafe, enjoying the nice weather and food Jon had claimed to be some of the best in metropolis (“Besides that one time Conner brought me with him to a custody required dinner with Lex a few years ago. That was the best,” he remembered the teen chatting on the walk there). Damian realized Jon had probably learned about the cafe from friends he knew from school.

As he looked around, though, he noticed more and more that the other teens around him were all there in pairs. Sipping on milkshakes and coffees together while they ate a split pastry. Some were holding hands over or under the table, or kissing on benches or leaned against the cafe’s garden walls. Subconsciously he found himself beginning to go into panic, because this was clearly not a place a normal friend from school would take Jon.

He didn’t understand why he was panicking at the notion of the boy having a boyfriend or girlfriend, or having gone on dates before. He was mentally aged to nineteen, even if he was currently dwelling in the body of a fifteen year old.

Maybe it was because sitting among these couples brought out something in him that had nothing to do with Jon. At least, he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Jon.

He had never felt threatened or out of place when at events that had many couples, his age, younger and older, all gathered and acting as couples. He knew the divorce, widowing and murder rates in Gotham meant that very few couples actually lasted for life. Even around his family he never found himself upset because he was too happy for their pairings. His father and Selina had made a great match despite his earlier doubts, Grayson and West were married with kids of their own, Todd and Harper as dysfunctional as they were still held Damian’s vote as the best fit couple in the family, and Drake and Jon’s cloned older brother were engaged to be wed in the spring.

But these couples were affecting him in such a way that he started to squeeze his stuffed bear’s paw under the table.

What’s wrong with Gotham? He thought, rerunning every statistic and horror story of love he knew from the city. The thought quickly morphed into What’s wrong with me?

It had been a long time since he asked that question, two years to be exact, and it was quickly waved away back to his first question. It had taken years of extensive therapy ordered by Alfred and plenty of love and care from his family, colleagues and friends to help him accept there wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was raised in harsh circumstances that his mother had gotten him out of and to his father the soonest she could. He had built walls and defences, and he knew now at a more mature age that they were all just for show and were unneeded now.

He looked around at the couples again and forced his heart not to harden in the presence. It was beautiful what youth and a good city could do to grow love, and he would be damned if he let a coping mechanism from his childhood make him view it as any less.

“Sorry I took so long,” Jon’s laugh caught his attention and he gave a soft smile up at his friend.

“Not at all.”

Jon took his seat across from him and sat down the tall pink and white milkshake between them as well as a napkin with two cookies on it. Just with a glance Damian could tell Jon had gotten him a dark chocolate variety, and couldn’t help but let his smile grow.

His attention on the cookies of course made him belatedly notice that the milkshake was singular and had two straws sticking up from the top.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted,” Jon admitted while Damian’s gaze whipped around them, knowing there must be a mistake. Instead of an explanation, Damian’s eyes locked onto a few couples who had a drink or milkshake set up the same way. One drink, two straws, with them drinking from them happily as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“It’s strawberry and cream,” Jon said, drawing his attention again. The teen across from him was nervously adjusting his glasses and pushing back his dark curls, looking anywhere but Damian. Damian noticed the faint blush dusting his cheeks and smiled, before his entire face went red at realization that he had just smiled at his friend blushing.

His brothers’ and Brown’s texts suddenly came back to mind, along with a few romcoms they had watched together and his own observations of his family and their significant others. The movie with a shared bucket of popcorn, the holding hands, the bear purchased and given after winning an arcade game, and now the obviously romantic cafe with a two straw milkshake and a blush.

“Are we on a date right now?” Damian blurted, eyebrow furrowed but eyes wide.

Jon’s head snapped up so quick Damian had barely seen it, compliments of super speed, his eyes equally as wide, “I thought we were, but your expression is telling a totally different story. You don’t have any kryptonite batarangs on you right now, right?”

“Why would I-” Damian shook his head, “We’re on a date no one had the decency to tell me?”

Well, technically Grayson, Todd and Brown had told him, but that wasn’t important. What was important was how shrill his voice was to his own ears, and the sympathetic glances a few couples were giving him.

“I asked Tim to ask you if you go on a date with me since my phone broke,” Jon was babbling now, hands flying around as he tried to explain. “I thought when he told Conner that you said yes you were saying yes to the date!”

A set up, Damian realized. Drake had fully intended for this mess to happen just to spite him. The man was lucky Damian now accepted he loved him, or he would never live to see his spring wedding.

“I need a second,” Damian said, resting his head in his hands. His face felt hot under his fingers, and he feared to imagine just how red it had become. A lifetime of training was all falling apart all because he had spent an entire date with a cute boy completely in the dark to the fact that it was a date.

Wait. Cute boy?

Did he think Jon was cute? Jon was cute, he had always known that, but did he really think he was cute in the way that Drake found the clone cute?

He had been jealous when Tim got the clone back but he lost Jon. That meant something, he had always known that, but he had never really looked into it. If he thought Jon was cute in that way, it explained the jealousy. The feeling of emptiness the half kryptonian boy’s absence had left him with. The reaction of honest to god fear when Jon came back in a way that was definitely socially unacceptable for him to be with.

Jon is cute. I like Jon. Jon likes me…

“Dami?” Jon said quietly, nervously. No, it was more than nerves now, he was afraid. He was afraid in the same way Damian had seen him in his older form. Rejection and heartbreak surly making the taste in his mouth bitter as apologies he didn't need to say weighed on his tongue.

“We’re on a date,” Damian finally said, peeking up from behind his finger. He said it as the statement it was and not the question from before.

“If you want to be,” Jon nodded, some of the fear falling away.

Damian took his hands away from his face but kept his eyes on the milkshake instead of Jon’s face. It was already starting to melt and turn sluggish in its tall cup.

“I want to be,” he said, a soft smile falling on his lips.

“Thank goodness, because I don’t know what I would tell Mom if I went home single,” Jon sighed in relief, then stopped. “That does mean you want to be my boyfriend, right?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Damian affirmed, smile growing wider. There was something fuzzy and warm and safe growing in his chest. It reminded him of Jon, as silly as it was considering Jon was the one who put it there.

“Thank goodness,” Jon repeated, letting his head fall on the table. “I think that was the most stressful thing I’ve ever done.”

“Jon, you’ve fought gods.”

“That was a hundred times easier than this was.”

“The milkshake is melting.”

Jon bounced up at that and quickly leaned forward to start gulping the sugary drink from his straw. Damian shook his head with a smaller smile and leaned forward as well.

His face lit up in heat once again when their noses brushed and Damian realized just how close there were, but he didn’t pull back. The milkshake was good, but it had nothing on the bashful and overwhelmingly happy look in Jon’s eyes. Damian was sure it was a look he could get drunk off of if he tried.

“We should probably get going,” Jon said with heavy remorse after they finished the milkshake.

“Probably,” Damian agreed, checking his watch. He wished he had the ability to make time stop, just for a second. He had just found out this was a date, and it was already ending. He would have to use the walk back to Drake and the clone to make up for that lost time.

As they walked down the sidewalk they finished their cookies and stared ahead at the near setting sun. When they were both finished, Damian took Jon’s hand and intertwined their fingers without looking towards him.

“Our next date you should take me to that sweets shop you’ve been talking about,” Damian said with a smile teasing his lips. He glanced from the corner of his eye just in time to catch Jon smiling a close lipped but wide smile. Domain was sure he would never get over how shy Jon could get in his civilian persona.

“I will,” Jon promised.

They reached the fountain they were meeting their brothers much too soon for Damian’s liking. Drake and clone spoted them right away, surly partially due to the oversized stuffed bear Damian was hulling along, and smiled upon spotting their intertwined fingers.

“I see the date went well,” Drake said with a devilish grin.

“No thanks to you,” Damian glared.

“He was just having a little fun,” the older Kent boy waved off Damian’s anger. “You figured it out before it ended at least.”

“Barely,” Damian rolled his eyes.

“But we still had fun,” Jon interjected. “Thank you for bringing Damian with you. It was a good first date.”

“First date as in there will be more,” the clone’s grin matched his fiance’s as he looked between them. “Jon you sly dog, did you get yourself a bat boyfriend?”

“Oh my God,” Jon mumbled, face going red in a new way for that day that was more familiar to Damian as his My Family is Embarrassing me Please Send Help face, as titled by his brother.

“He did,” Damian spoke up for him with a slightly puffed chest.

“I did,” Jon repeated with a smile down at Damian.

“Well, it’s time for me to get your little bat back to Gotham,” Tim interjected.

“Who are you calling little?” Damian raised an eyebrow. He was as tall as Drake and still growing. If it weren’t for Cain, Drake would have been the shortest of the bats.

“Can you please let me live in a fantasy where my little brother is still little for five minutes?” Drake pleaded with him.

Damian rolled his eyes again as Drake kissed his fiance goodbye.

Together they started to walk away from the Kent brothers and back to Drake’s car. Drake allowed the kick that came to his shins as they walked off and even smiled. When they got to the car, Damian had made up his mind.

“Hold this,” Damian said, passing the bear off to Drake as quickly as he could with a stuffed animal of it;s size. “If you drop Jon Jr. I won't hesitate to stick a blade in your shin.”

“Got it, no dropping,” Drake grinned at him over the bear. “Go get him.”

Damian nodded and ran back in the direction they had come from until he reached the fountain and spotted the Kent brothers walking in the other direction. He had to rush to keep up with even just their walking speed, reminding him of how much Jon had to control himself and slow down the entire day. Luckily his own speed, as human as it was, was enough to reach them before they got to the clone’s car.

Without a word, Damian grabbed Jon’s arm as he turned to face him, and pushed up onto his tiptoes to lock their lips together. Jon froze under his hand before melting into the kiss and sliding his hand into Damian’s hair and his other arm around his waist for support.

Damian pulled back with Jon chasing after his lips with his eyes closed. He smiled at the sight and pecked Jon’s lips one more time before parting fully and starting his run back in the direction of his brother’s car.

“You’ll call me, right?” he heard Jon yell behind him.

Damian turned on his heel to look back, “Get your phone fixed and I will.”

Then he kept running, a wide grin on his face.

Maybe sunny days in Metropolis weren't so bad after all.

[ghostnoms]

For the ship ask: ereri, of course 😎

hehe i been waiting for this one >:)

1.) what made you ship it?

well, i definitely came into snk knowing of ereri and that it was a popular ship. when i first started watching i was like ??? why is this a ship?? but then... the little things, man. levi’s face after eren confesses in the dungeon. eren’s obvious hero worship. levi asking eren if he hated him. the budding trust as eren joins levi’s squad. then, just how the two of them seemed to understand each other so well. levi’s instinct to protect eren. the way they just seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. by the time i finished the first season, i was in wayyyy too deep to get out lmao

also i started reading a lot of fics/watching cmvs and amvcs halfway through the anime and i said hold on.... this shit be hitting different. their dynamic will always be my favorite thing. a little grumpy sourpuss with a soft spot for the raging ball of hormones and anger? just fuck me up, dude.

2.) what are your favorite things about the ship?

OHH boy. so, so, SO many things. like i couldn’t even possibly write them all down. i’ll just do my best and try to keep it short hbdjsnc.

okay, so. the parallelisms. the way they just seem to be two sides of the same damn coin. isayama was really quite genius in his creation of these characters. i feel like he really knew what he was doing, making them so similar. the way their pasts coincide, their goals in the war (this is shown in the same episode! “i will eradicate all the titans,” levi says it at the beginning and eren says it at the end. to levi. beautiful, gorgeous, poetic cinema 😩) their core beliefs about freedom and choice, the way they view the world.... i could go on.

on the subject of their character, the first thing i fell in love with was how they SEEM so different, but in the end are so similar. while levi may seem like a jaded, apathetic older man, and eren a passionate, fiery new recruit, when you peel back the layers they both share some very core beliefs. they have an intense hatred for titans, are fiercely loyal, and have a deep love and desire for freedom.

they bring out the best in each other. i previously said they fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and this is one of the biggest reasons why. they are undeniable each other’s pillars of strength. levi is always there to provide eren with guidance, reason, and is a very grounding presence for the eren. when no one else seems able to reach eren, levi always manages to bring him back to reality, lend him strength and courage, and give him the tools necessary to fight his own battles. eren trusts levi so much for this specific reason, and leans on him in a very special way that i feel is very unique to their relationship. now, on to levi. eren is undeniably levi’s beacon of hope. for so many years levi has fought on in a seeminly hopeless situation, his eyes on the horizon and never looking back. but in comes eren, in a blaze of rage and passion, and levi finally feels something. hope. hope for freedom, for a life beyond the walls. he sees himself in eren. a boy who sees the world in black and white, with an unwavering determination and force of will, a “monster” (to quote the vn hehe) that can and will never be tamed. while eren possesses such a fiery will, though, levi sees the broken and confused boy underneath. he acknowledges this part of him that so few others see, and communicates with him. they learn from each other, levi learns through his relationship with eren how to better communicate, how to be a better friend, soldier, leader, and man. levi’s world, so long plunged in darkness, finally starts to change. a light begins to illuminate path forward. he sees where he’s going now, thanks to eren. and eren has a better understanding of the world, of himself, and of the relationships he has with his comrades, thanks to levi. he has someone to lean on. ok i have to force myself to stop on this point now but honey, i could go on for DAYS.

okay last one i promise. this one was just honestly my first impression of the ship, and i just loved it so much i had to include it. kind of an old take by now, but whatever. they’re literally the wings of freedom. levi is humanity’s strongest soldier, and eren is humanity’s hope. (again, two sides of the same coin bitch!!!!). when eren first sees levi, its in the haze of battle, the wings of freedom flowing on levi’s back as eren opens his eyes for the first time. when levi first “sees” eren, its in that cold, dark dungeon, his eyes blazing with a fire levi believed had so long been extinguished within himself. levi chooses to become eren’s guardian because of this, and eren accepts levi despite all his quirks and flaws, all because of the trust and understanding that is so integral to their relationship. i believe these two souls were destined to meet, and will continue finding and loving each other in any other future lives they lead.

3.) Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

this got mushy and long really fast so i’ll try to wrap it up quickly lol. honestly, i don’t think so? the fandom and ship is so old and has evolved so much over the years that i feel any “hot take” or unpopular opinion i may have is old news by now. uhh, i guess maybe i think levi would be more submissive? i feel like he’d crave that sensation of relinquishing control to that one special person that he KNOWs he would be in good hands with. which is eren lol. also, i feel like levi isn’t as old as people make him out to be. since his age in unconfirmed in the manga, i’ve never seen him as older than 30 when the anime starts out. i think he was around 20 in acwnr, so there isn’t a bigger than 10 year age difference between him and eren. idk i think thats it lol.

thank you so much for the ask! i had a lot of fun rambling on about my two favorite dorks lmao :) i appreciate it. sorry this is so long!

[fromthewifecage]

Kombatants and a clumsy S/O (aka: Oh shit I just dropped my sandwich on the floor)

This idea for some headkanons came from a silly chat with @gojihime99, and I just had to write something. Also I’m suffering from pretty horrendous PMT this month and occasionally, amongst the anger and annoying fits of sobbing, I become even more clumsy that normal. I’ve almost fallen down the stairs so many times in the last 2 days that I have no idea how I haven’t seriously hurt myself. This includes Erron Black, Johnny Cage (mention of Younger!Johnny but focused on Dad!Johnny), Nightwolf, Bi-Han, Kenshi (yes @malicedragoness, I finally included him for you, sorry it’s not full on filth), Kabal and Kano (again Kano is last so if you don’t like him you can ignore the end). It’s aiming for humour and fluff, with a hint of smut. Hope you like :D It’s quite long so do keep reading after the cut! Erron Black: This man has the reflexes of a magician. He’ll be relaxing with you, an arm slung around your shoulders, one hand stroking through your hair, whilst his other hand will be dancing a coin across his knuckles. You’re not complaining, talented fingers are very useful after all, but it’s unfair that he never seems to drop anything or even have to concentrate on making sure he doesn’t spill his drink when he’s carrying it, your drink, a bowl of snacks, and some napkins because it’s inevitable that you’ll spill said drink at least once. “Noooooooooo!” Erron appears in the doorway, thumbs hooked into his belt, feet crossed nonchalantly and a massive smirk on his infuriatingly sexy lips. “What you dropped this time, darlin’?” “Sandwich.” He snorts and saunters away, spurs jingling, the noise only half covering his low rumbly laughter. Sexy bloody bastard. Well the floor is clean, he knows you drop stuff occasionally (all the time) and so he takes time to mop the floor, all so you can take advantage of the 5 second rule. And he mops topless because it means you’ll get all hot and red and then your clothes will fall off and you’ll both end up fucking on the kitchen worktops. “Noooooooooo!” This time it’s Erron yelling and you running into the bedroom. There you find Erron sprawled on the bed, his smirk even smirkier. “You ok?!” “Looks like I fell on the bed. Gosh darn it.” His smirk curls into a predatory grin that sends a deep aching pulse to your core. Ugh. Stupid sexy bastard. Then ‘oh nooooo’ you’ve fallen too. And your clothes soon fall to the floor. Gosh darn it. Keep reading for more idiocy after the cut...

Johnny Cage: Younger!Johnny has no time for clumsiness and will roll his eyes whenever you trip up the stairs (how is that even a thing? Surely gravity should stop that? Stupid science). He’s a bit of a twat, let’s be honest. It’s when baby Cassie comes along that he experiences his own clumsiness for the first time. Being woken countless times a night and surviving for months on little to no sleep turns the once smoothly graceful man into a stumbling mess. It also shows him how dangerous a home can be and after he’s tripped over a dropped baby bottle seemingly 100 times in one night that he calls in his PA and has the apartment (Penthouse) baby (and sleepy Dad) proofed. Dad!Johnny is a much more understanding and kind man. “Noooooooooo!” Johnny runs into the kitchen, hair wet from the shower and sticking up in every possible direction, towel flapping, fists held in front of him, his entire body radiating green light. “You ok, baby?” You’re speechless, scared and he’s now worried. It’s after a good few minutes of him searching the kitchen, spouting off threats of serious bodily harm that you find your voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with me I didn’t mean to I’m sorry please don’t Hulk-out!” He’s puzzled at first, and kinda worried you’re unwell. that’s when he notices the green glow lighting up the kitchen. His face flushes red and he’s so damn adorable that you can’t help but pull him into your arms, and when you finally get him to tell you about the ‘glow’ you just about die with happiness. You wake him up the next morning wearing all the green clothes you own. “You ‘Hulking-out’ now, sweetheart?” “It’s my way of glowing, you know, cos I love you too.” Maybe you didn’t need to dig out that ill fitting green shirt, because he has that off you in mere seconds, and everything else you’re wearing. Neither of you leave the bedroom until you really need a sandwich. And he offers to make it this time. Nightwolf: He’s not one to comment on any clumsiness, that would be mean and the last thing he’d ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or ashamed of something you can’t really control. If you repeatedly drop or squish things he’ll rearrange his home to make it easier for you to move without bashing your hip into the edge of the table, repeatedly. He’ll think about why you might be clumsy, are you not paying attention, or is the table possessed by an evil demon who likes to watch you hurt yourself on it’s sharp corners? Maybe you’re overly stressed by your job? He wants to help, he wants you to be happy and besides, if your hip is sore then that might get in the way of rolling about naked together in the forest and that is not ok. “Noooooooooo!” Nightwolf runs into the kitchen in the most heroic way, hair loose and majestic, an axe tightly held ready to vanquish whatever is making you shout. He finds you pouting at a happy Kiba licking at the floor. “Are you alright, my love?” When it comes out that you’re sad because you dropped your sandwich on the kitchen floor and Kiba snaffled it in one big bite, Nightwolf is stunned. He puts down the axe and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back and trying oh so very hard not to laugh. “I’ll make you a new one, and we can go outside and watch the sunset whilst you eat it.” Nightwolf is the best. Especially when he’s butt naked and howling with pleasure into the night as you ride him, sandwich forgotten and uneaten in the picnic basket he put together. Bi-Han: The man can move as silently as smoke and as fluidly as water, so honestly, your clumsiness does annoy him. But he does admire that you don’t make a big deal (usually), that you clean up any mess, and you don’t ask him to modify his home to suit you, rather you accept you’re going to bash your hips against the edge of the table, or hit your head when you open a cabinet when looking for his secret chocolate supply (he’ll deny he has one). If you’re living together or at least spending time together out of bed, then he has actual feelings for you, so accepts your clumsiness as part of you, and wouldn’t dream of asking or trying to get you to change. He loves you as you are, clumsy dork or not, and you love him just the way he is, a big scary (sexy) assassin. “Noooooooooo!” Bi-Han saunters into the kitchen. He’s an exceptionally skilled assassin, he can tell if there is someone else is in the house, and it’s just you, and from the sound of it, you’ve dropped your sandwich. He leans against the doorframe and watches you sulk. “You’re cute when you pout.” You have to stomp over to the fridge to hide the smile that tries to erase your pout. When you find you’ve had the last of the cheese you really do pout. Bi-Han just grins that infuriating gin of his and nods towards a bag on the table. Inside is cheese, crisp salad leaves and your favourite bread from your favourite bakery, all the way over the other side of town. He knew you were running low on supplies and didn’t want you to go hungry. You reward him with a long lingering kiss and don’t even mention the blood smear staining the bag. Best not to. Plus Bi-Han has his hands under your top and you’d really rather not distract him from that. Kenshi: He would never deliberately intrude upon your thoughts without your express permission, but sometimes, especially if you’re thinking hard or are emotional about something, your thoughts project too loudly to ignore. There are also times that Kenshi feels he has to read your thoughts, for example if you’re upset or he’s genuinely worried about you. Your clumsiness confused him at first, he’d hear shrieks or thuds, you’d wince if he pressed against a bruise as his hands explored your body, and it took him breaching his own rules on telepathy and reading your mind to see what really happened. So he was relieved to find that you were not in danger, no-one was hurting you or making you anxious enough to lose focus and hurt yourself; you just lost focus on your surroundings, weren’t spatially aware of your own body or were paying attention to something else enough to walk into the wall, again. “Noooooooooo!” Kenshi strolls into the kitchen as the sandwich levitates off the ground and back onto the plate you’re holding. “My hero!” You squeak and rush to hug him. He’s a fantastic hugger so you barely need an excuse to wrap your arms around his wiry frame. The sandwich starts sliding off the plate again so Kenshi calmly hovers them both onto the table to let you hug him tighter. “Was this just a ploy to get me in your arms?” You laugh and hug him tighter. “No, but would you object if I tried it in the future? Or we can just pretend I’ve dropped my sandwich and you can still be all handsome and heroic and save me from possessed food?” His laughter is silenced by your lips pressing to his own and hands that tug at his crisply pressed shirt. His smile is too beautiful not to kiss. Kabal: Not only is he a speed demon, but he’s graceful as well. Quite how he can zip around at speeds so fast Sonic would be jealous AND manage not to knock anything over and avoid pedestrians is frankly unfair. At the start of your relationship he’ll zoom around moving things out of your way, but after you explain it feels overly protective and nannying, he stops (unless you're in serious danger). He understands your need to feel free, to grab onto any small chunks of personal freedom that you can, and admires that you can accept your ‘flaws’. He does tease you about it if you bump into something, but gently and with a smile, and he knows you can’t resist his smiles, so it’s doubly good, right? “Noooooooooo!” He’s there before you finish groaning out your frustration. “You ok?” “Dropped my sandwich.” He can’t help but laugh. “And there was me thinking it was a monster. Kinda hoped it was a monster so I could show off and slice it into pepperoni so you’d swoon and offer me anything I wanted for being your saviour.” “Oh, is that how it is?” You grin and grab a hold of his shirt, tugging him to press against you. He raises an eyebrow and grins, eyes sparkling. “You want me to get on my knees and show you how grateful I am for you rescuing me from the big bad sandwich?” It’s after you both breathlessly get to your feet having rolled around on the kitchen floor, that you notice what happened to the sandwich. Kabal jokingly offers you the bum-flattened bread. You both end up on the floor again when you tell him you’d rather eat his ass. Kano: Drop his stuff and he’ll get pissed off, drop your own and he’ll laugh. And if you drop food then he’s fully into the 5 second (or minutes/hours) rule. Food is food, and when you grow up dirt poor then a little bit of floor on your sandwich isn’t enough to throw it away. If you’re in a casual/fuck buddy thing with him then he’s not going to see you enough to witness your clumsiness, but once he develops feelings for you and wants you around, he finds pretty much everything you do cute and lovable. “Noooooooooo!” Kano barrels into the kitchen like a sexy (sexier?) crocodile Dundee, knives out, tits out, red eye glowing menacingly. He’s used to all manner of fuck off deadly shit in Australia, and in Russia you may not have ‘death on eight legs’ or Jaws waiting mouth open in a puddle, but you do get bears, wolves, and angry bastards who’ve run out of vodka. “You ok, love?” You pout and point to the floor. Your meticulously made sandwich (and you’d been thinking about it all day) lay on the floor. “Well, whilst you’re down there, love?” His grin is filthy and despite the horrendous line, you laugh. “Oh no, think it’s my turn, don’t you?” “Don’t have to ask me twice.” For a man his size he is far faster than you’d imagine, and he has his tongue inside you before you can really catch your breath. He even gives you the bigger half of the sandwich afterwards. He’s a softy really.

[9r7g5h]

Facing the Minotaur - P8

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Rating: T

Genre: Action/Adventure

Summary: When the Queen of Crete goes missing, it’s up to Xena and Gabrielle to save her. But when that means delving into the depths of the Labyrinth, can they even save themselves?

Words: 4,304

AN: And now for chapter 8, where we get to go on this little mini side quest. Because why not?

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7, P8, P9, P10, P11, P12, P13, P14

Whether it was just good luck or because Zeus himself decided to help them on their way, Xena couldn’t be sure. But either way, the cards were falling in their favor, and with the newest addition to the list of tasks before them, she wasn’t going to complain.

The gods knew, quite literally, that they had enough on their plates without minor inconveniences.

It started with a farmer with too many horses for him to manage alone, his sons having run off to the cities to join the searches that were scouring the land for the Queen. A futile search, she and Gabrielle knew, but ones that the people of Crete kept organizing, hoping almost against hope that one of them would be successful. With his sons gone, it had been up to him to take the newest young horses to the market by himself- an overly horrible idea, the half dozen mares and stallions too many for him alone, especially when one was determined to head for the hills.

Xena had managed to intercept the stallion before it had gone too far, and when they had taken it back to the farmer, he had told them to keep it. That stallion wasn’t even his, not really- a young soldier had been sent home from training early, dismissed for misconduct, and had just left the horse in his field. The farmer had figured he would sell him for some extra coins when weeks passed without the owner coming back, but he just wasn’t worth it. Badly trained with an almost evil temper, that stallion was nothing but a menace, and the farmer would be glad to be rid of him.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Xena who earned the horse’s affection- despite all of her experiences with horses, he had tried to bite her the moment she got too close, and no matter what tone she took or what gaze she used, normally enough to turn any horse to fit her needs, this one just snorted and tried to kick her.

It was Gabrielle, muttering about how pretty he was and how he was a good boy that no one understood while she pat his neck, who earned his loyalty. Gabrielle who had to figure out how to clamber up onto his saddle-less back and fashion the bit of rope the farmer had given them into a halter, and only then had it been safe for Xena to approach (but just barely. The horse had nipped at her as she passed, and it had taken Gabrielle asking very, very nicely if he would stay still for him to stop shying away every time she neared so Xena could mount on behind her).

But even a brat of a horse was better than none and would help them reach their destination that much sooner.

One that, after Zeus had disappeared, they realized they had no clue where it was. He had never said where the hydra’s cave was, nor had he even pointed them in the correct direction. Perhaps the worst start to any quest that Xena had ever heard of- at least most of the time the heroes in question were given a direction to walk in, if not a fully detailed map that would lead them directly to whatever they were supposed to kill or steal.

But the farmer, once again, had come to their help. Once they had both managed to get astride the horse, he had asked, quite casually, where it was they were going.

“To the hydra’s cave,” Gabrielle had answered, speaking up, her voice a forced seriousness that showed her excitement for the task. “We’re going to kill it.”

“You’re in luck then, ladies,” the old farmer had replied with a nod and a gentle smile, as if amused by Gabrielle’s exuberance. “You’re looking for Hydra’s Nest- a town about a day’s ride that way, if you can get your horse to cooperate. A bit on the nose with a name like that,” he added with a small chuckle, pointing down a turn in the road a couple of yards away from them, leading off into the distance towards another set of mountains. “But it does fit. Follow that road, and you’ll get there sometime tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Xena said, nodding her head in a small bow- without his help, they would have surely gotten lost at one point or another, and even the horse wouldn’t have been much help then. “If there’s anything I can do to repay your kindness…”

“Eachann,” the farmer filled in for her, smiling widely. “You’re already doing me a favor by taking that brute off my hands. And if you do end up killing the hydra, just let people know where you got your horse from. The steeds of heroes and those bred from them can earn a pretty penny, if you’re successful.”

“We’re also going to save the Queen, Eachann,” Gabrielle added in, smiling widely at the man. “I’m sure she’ll want a horse as well.”

She chuckled at the look on his face as she nudged the horse into motion, the stallion taking off much faster than she intended, leaving Eachann himself laughing as Gabrielle, unused to handling the reigns, tried to take back control as Xena just held on for the ride.

It took a while, quite a bit of negotiating with the horse- named Hann after the farmer- with Gabrielle as the go between, but eventually he settled down with Xena at the reigns, grudgingly allowing her to steer so long as Gabrielle kept up an almost constant chatter to remind him she was there.

Something that she found easy, now that her enthusiasm had been restored by their good fortunes.

“When Hercules fought the hydra,” Gabrielle said, one hand on Hann’s neck to keep her steady while she gestured with the other, careful to keep from smack either of Xena’s arms, wrapped as they were around to her hold the rope reigns, “he didn’t realize that the heads would grow back each time you cut one off if you don’t burn the neck closed. We have an advantage here- not only are there two of us, but we know to bring torches. Now, if we can just get me a sword…”

“Not going to happen, Gabrielle.”

“Xena,” Gabrielle almost whined, tilting her head back to look at the warrior behind her. “You can’t expect me to stay behind and do nothing while you go fight the hyrda. You can’t, and I won’t.”

“Oh, you’re going to help alright,” Xena said, momentarily soothing the sudden surge of anger she could feel building within the bard. “Just not with a sword. Gabrielle,” she continued, cutting off the argument she felt coming, “you can hold your own fairly well against the average bandit, but the hydra is going to be much smarter than that. Even without a sword, it will see you as a threat and will try to attack. It will take all of my abilities to even keep it distracted, much less cut off its heads.”

“Then I should be able to help,” Gabrielle said. “I can fend off one while you get the others, and then we can tag team it.”

“Gabrielle, you can’t even touch me with a sword, and a hyrda is bound to be a lot tougher. If you go into this battle with one, you’ll be dead before it ends, and that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Like how it wasn’t a risk you were willing to take with me in the labyrinth?”

An awkward silence fell over the two of them- guilt on Xena’s part, for underestimating her friend so many times, despite the multitude of times she had proved her capabilities, and anger on Gabrielle’s for the same reason.

“I’m sorry, Gabrielle,” Xena eventually sighed, slowly shaking her head as she slowed Hann down, his steady, mile eating canter slowing to a trot. “I do underestimate you, and I’m wrong to. I’m sorry.”

“I just want to help,” Gabrielle said, leaning back so her head rested against Xena’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do everything alone- we’ve been friends for almost three years, Xena, we’re a team. You don’t need to keep pushing me away. I can fight, like you said, I can hold my own- why won’t you let me?”

There were a dozen answers Xena could give. She still remembered Gabrielle as the young woman who had never picked up anything bigger than an eating dagger, someone who needed to be protected; a Gabrielle who had never killed anything more vicious than a rabbit or a fish before (excluding, of course, her), and to let her into battle with a hyrda was almost as good as killing her herself. She could say that the very idea of Gabrielle in danger, of Gabrielle as a target, of Gabrielle in a position where she could get hurt sent her heart thrumming with fear, her stomach clenching almost painfully tight, her entire body wanting to do nothing more than curl around her and keep her safe- much less the reality of those situations, when everything she feared came true.

She could have said any of these and so much more. But she didn’t.

“I wasn’t suggesting that you not help me with the hydra,” Xena said softly, trying to soothe the sulking bard. “I want you there- I honestly don’t think I can defeat it without you.”

“You don’t?” She was honestly surprised- Xena didn’t admit her weaknesses often, didn’t let others see behind the mask, but here she was. Admitting her faults and flaws, that Xena of the many skills couldn’t do something alone. “Really?”

“Really,” Xena confirmed, nodding. Shifting both halves of the rope reigns into one hand, she wrapped the other around Gabrielle’s waist and pulled her as best as she could into a hug, her head tilting to place quick, friendly kiss against her temple. “Gabrielle, if I’m to kill the hydra, the only way that can happen is if you’re there with me. But not with a sword.”

“Then how?” Most of the grumpiness had been removed from her voice, only a hint remaining under the honest curiosity.

“With the torches. I only have two hands, Gabrielle,” Xena said almost teasingly, holding up both of them for her to see. “There’s no way I can hold my sword, my chakram, and a torch all at once. Meaning if I cut off a head, there’s no way I can burn the neck closed before two new ones appear in its place. And even if I could, I’ll be honestly surprised if we get through the battle only using one. What I’ll need you to do is have multiple torches ready to be lit at any moment, and to burn the necks. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise the hydra’s heads will overwhelm you, and you’ll die.” Gabrielle said the words matter of factly, though her voice caught on the very last word. For a few moments she was silent, weighing the words Xena had said, before shaking her head and tilting it back to smile up at her. “Well, why didn’t you say so before?”

“Not like you gave me much of a chance,” Xena replied, rolling her eyes at her. “I am sorry about the labyrinth,” she added, her tone sincere as she gave Gabrielle another quick squeeze around her waist before releasing her from the hug. “I was wrong. But I’m not leaving you behind on this- I promise.”

“As if you could leave me behind,” Gabrielle scoffed, though she didn’t move from her positon. In fact, she shifted so she was more comfortably resting back against Xena’s chest, giving no indication that she was about to move from the spot. “Last time you tried that, I just came after you.”

Silently, Xena agreed, and thanked the gods that Gabrielle had.

Out loud, she urged Hann into a faster pace, hoping to reach the town Eachann had told them about as soon as possible.

Hydra’s Nest was a small town, barely large enough to be called that- most of the villagers, it seemed, actually had some sort of sense in them and had left decades ago, when the hydra had first moved into the nearby caverns and started to pose a threat.

The fools, for those who had remained were flourishing, thriving off the hundreds of adventurers who came to their little town each year, all hoping to find their claim to fame within the hydra’s den.

“We get all kinds of you sorts,” the innkeeper said, placing the food they had ordered down on the table, smiling widely at them both as they dug into the hot meal. “Men and women who show up armed to the teeth, ready to kill the hydra and take its head to whoever needs it- gods, kings, I even had a young boy come in here once with a hundred year old sword, since his girl only said she would marry him if he brought home a head. Bloody fools, every single one of you.”

“Aren’t you scared, being so close to it,” Gabrielle asked, swallowing thickly to clear her mouth. “I mean, the hydra must be terrifying for all of you.”

“Oh, it will be in a hundred years or so,” the innkeeper said, rolling her eyes. “Right now, it’s only a threat to cats, dogs, the occasional sheep, and anyone who goes poking their noses where they don’t belong. Once it’s full grown, sure, we’ll need someone to come in and take care of it. But for now it’s just a bit of a bother.” She shrugged, in a ‘what can you do’ sort of manner. “Only six, maybe seven feet tall, I think- no one besides you adventurers have seen it in a long while, and no one’s been able to measure it. Can’t eat a man whole yet, and even if someone does get bit, there’s plenty of time to get down the mountain and back into town before the poison kills you. We keep plenty of herbs in stock, just for that reason.”

For a moment the smile on her face flickered, though it quickly returned.

“Mattie, our herbalist who lives down the street, she fixes all of you warriors up nice and right- I think in the last ten years, we’ve had, oh…” She trailed off as she thought before giving a quick shrug. “Five, maybe six deaths. Mainly people who got lost on their way down- the venom can make you a bit disoriented. But that rarely happens- the trail is well marked, as high as it is safe for us normal folk to go, and then you just follow the path upwards. Are you gals gonna give it a try?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Xena quickly said, glancing over at Gabrielle so she wouldn’t contradict her. “We’re going to make a decision tonight, now that we’re here.”

“Well,” the innkeeper said, smiling widely at the two as she stood to leave, “if you do, I wish you luck. If you kill it, good on you. And good for us too, since people are more willing to pay to come see a dead hydra up close then they are a live one. And if not, well, maybe someone will someday.”

With that she nodded and left them to their food, giving them a little wave before disappearing into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” Gabrielle’s voice was low, her head leaned in so she could talk to Xena without worrying about someone overhearing them. “What did you sense?”

“Eat quick,” Xena replied, digging into her own food. “I want to go talk to this Mattie, take a look at her herb stores. Even if nothing’s wrong, the innkeeper looked strange when she mentioned them. Want to check it out before we go up.”

Silence descended over them as they ate, scarfing the filling food as quickly as their stomachs would allow before heading out to check on the store down the street.

The store seemed normal- opening the door, Xena couldn’t help but crinkle her nose as the overwhelming scent of dried herbs washed over her, filling her senses and almost coating her tongue with its potency. The smell was quick to get over, though, the mixture of scents retreating into the background as she breathed in, getting the smell deep into her lungs to help speed up the process.

Gabrielle coughed once behind her, but with a shake of her head when Xena glanced over her shoulder, she confirmed she was fine.

“One minute, please!” The voice that called from the back of the store was young, perky and excited, if a bit frazzled. They could hear her shuffling around, crates banging against each other as bottles clinked, all barely covering the sound of soft curses. “I just need to…”

“Take your time,” Gabrielle called back when the woman trailed off, glancing up at Xena and shrugging. When Xena shrugged back, Gabrielle took a couple of steps around her further into the store, her curious gaze taking her straight to the shelves where row after row of bottles and jars lined the walls. “We’re just going to take a look,” she added as she picked up a pink bottle, trying to determine the liquid inside.

“Help yourself.”

For a couple of minutes Xena and Gabrielle browsed, neither saying much as they looked through the supplies the store had to offer- everything from poisons and their antidotes to lotions and creams for foot rot and lice. Herbs, just waiting to be mixed into whatever form was necessary, hung from the ceiling, brushing against the top of Gabrielle’s head as she walked, forcing Xena to weave her way through the store so she didn’t end up with a mouthful of plant.

It was only a couple of minutes, but within those minutes, Xena couldn’t help but shrug- why the innkeeper had made a face, she couldn’t be sure, but the store looked more than well stocked. Good enough for any town, especially one as bustling as this.

But then Mattie came out, baby on her hip, and Xena understood.

When the family resemblance was so strong between father, son, and brother, it was hard to miss a child of Zeus.

“How can I help you ladies today,” Mattie asked, smiling brightly at them as she placed her son, no more than two, on the ground. He seemed a bit wobbly, but kept his footing under him as he looked around, smiling with a gummy smile up at his mother. “Anything you need?”

“My friend and I were thinking about going up against the hydra,” Xena said, gently pushing aside a dried bundle of violets so she could step up to the counter, giving Mattie an easy smile. “I was told that you could make an antidote for the hydra’s venom- a bottle of that sure would come in handy, if we decide to give it a try.”

“It would,” Mattie agreed, nodding her head, “and I’d be willing to sell it to you, though it’d be useless by the time you needed it.”

“Oh?” It was Gabrielle who spoke up, having come to Xena’s side now that the store owner was present. Raising her eyebrow, Gabrielle tilted her head, waiting for Mattie’s response- only to notice the small boy down by her feet. “Why, hello there!” She said, leaning over to wave at him, her wide smile widening when he smiled and waved back. “Is he yours?”

“Yes,” Mattie said with a fond smile, reaching down to ruffle her son’s hair. “Crinacus is mine- my little rascal,” she teased, gentle nudging him away so she could walk around the counter, picking up the ingredients she needed as she passed. “Now, about the antidote, yes, I can make it- but the ingredients react violently with one another; which is what makes it such an effective cure, the reactions neutralizing the poison with themselves. After mixing, there’s about a two hour time span in which it can be used before the entire mixture is useless.” Picking up the last bottle she needed, Mattie returned to her side of the counter, laying them all before Xena and Gabrielle to see. “As you can see,” she said, motioning towards them, “I have everything I need to make it. And considering it’s a three hour hike, and at this stage, the hydra’s poison takes seven to kill, there’s plenty of time to make it back for me to make the mixture and save you, should either of you get bitten. But to make the mixture and take it with you?”

“It would be a dud before we even reached the cave,” Xena answered, nodding in understanding. “And I’m guessing that we wouldn’t be able to buy the ingredients and make it up there, would we?”

Mattie shook her head almost apologetically. “The antidote needs to be carefully measured and mixed, or it becomes toxic itself. A first timer, making it while under the pressure of a friend or themselves being bit? I’d honestly refuse to sell you the ingredients in the first place.”

“That’s exactly what we needed to know. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Mattie replied. “Are you going to give it a try?”

“Yeah,” Xena said, nodding, glancing over at Gabrielle and giving her a small, telling smile. “I think we are.”

They left most of their things at the inn- with only a few hours up and back, they were hoping to be back before it became too late, a hydra’s head in hand for when they returned. Carrying only their weapons and the torches they had fashioned on their way out of town, with a day’s worth of supplies draped over Hann’s back in case it took them longer, within an hour of their conversation with Mattie they had left to go fight the hydra.

“That was Hercules’s brother, wasn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you caught on,” Xena said, glancing down at Gabrielle. Once again she had had to ride in front, her calming touch the only thing allowing Xena to keep the horse moving forward. “What gave it away?”

“He picked up a box twice his size while Mattie was getting the ingredients together,” Gabrielle said with a shrug, looking up to meet Xena’s gaze. When Xena’s eyebrow raised, Gabrielle smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “He made it kind of obvious with the super strength.”

“That’s probably why Zeus asked us to come here and kill the hydra,” Xena said, carefully adjusting their course. “Hercules didn’t gain his strength until he was almost five, when a serpent slithered into his room and tried to kill him. He crushed it, but it left him wide open for anyone who wanted to gain a reputation by taking on a son of Zeus.”

“Even a child,” Gabrielle asked, horrified.

“Especially a child,” Xena confirmed. “Think about it: no training, no combat skills, barely able to control their abilities- a child is the best target for people like them. People who might make it a goal in life to try and kill a hydra.”

“If we kill the hydra, the warriors will stop coming.”

“And be replaced by tourists who just want to see a pile of bone,” Xena said, nodding- Gabrielle had caught onto Zeus’ plan quickly. “Without any monster to fight, who would come out all this way? No one, not until Crinacus grows up enough to make a name for himself.”

“And by then he’ll be able to protect himself,” Gabrielle finished, nodding in understanding. “I get yah. You know, that Zeus is pretty sneaky. He could have just told us what he needed us to do and why instead of being all cryptic.”

“But Gabrielle,” Xena said with a gasp, a fake tone of shock in her voice, “that would be too easy! How are we supposed to measure up to the warriors of old if we can’t decipher our own hidden messages in the clouds?”

For a moment Gabrielle tried to keep a straight face, tried to keep a look of serious understanding even as her eyes glinted and her lips twitched, but only for a moment before she snorted, descending into giggles as she glanced up and looked at Xena’s mock outraged expression. An expression that quickly broke as Xena joined in, the two of them laughing and joking as they made their way up the mountain to the hydra’s cave.

Xena was getting tired of caves.

This one, at least, was warm- warm and rank, her nose reminded her, the smell of fresh death and rot reaching them both, drawing a gag out of Gabrielle as she tried to steady herself. Bile rose in her own throat, but Xena quickly swallowed it- it was nowhere near as bad as some of the battlefields she had walked through, especially during her summer campaigns, when a war would take weeks and the dead would be left to bloat and rot in the sun; nothing, then, had been able to mask the smell, no matter how far away they got, and during those months it seemed to cling to her. To her hair, her clothes, her horse, her men- everything smelled of death and rot, no matter how many times they had bathed.

But it also smelled of life, the ragged musk of animal and sweat, and it didn’t scare her, not like the last cave they had wandered into had.

Holding up her sword, Xena glanced over at Gabrielle, nodding as her friend held up the torch, the flame dim in the setting sun but still there.

“Ready?” Xena asked.

“Ready.”

Together they descended into the cave, ready to fight whatever was waiting for them inside