| Ok, this is for
HB!! It's an answer to her Cinderella challenge. Though a very twisted version. It's also the product of too much coffee and too much work. It's a desperate bid for freedom. Nah it's just a really weird fic. It's not serious, not in the slightest, so I don't mind if you hate it. I just wanted to share this morning. All mistakes are mine, and there probably will be some. Title: Not Gonna Happen Author: Corona Rating: Er PG-15 (I think) Archive: LOL, hey sure if you want it. Pairing: A/J C/S Warning: Weirdness and fairy-tale slaughtering. Disclaimer: I don't own anybody here. I never have done and I never will. I'm borrowing all of them for this story, I'll give them straight back afterwards. Series: No way Summary: HB's challenge, a total slaughtering of a popular fairy-tale. Once upon a time long ago....... Hercules, the kings personal spokesman tugged at the red brocade he'd managed to squeeze himself into and ascended the small stage in the middle of the town square. Peasants, sensing something more interesting than counting their own lice, huddled forward en masse. A few, amidst dirty looks from the courtiers personal guards, gave halfhearted cheers. The courtier cleared his throat and unrolled an ornate scroll. "By the will of his majesty the king..." he paused, scowled at the guards, who obliging poked some of the peasants in a threatening manner. "All hail the king" they mumbled, though one did shout 'get on with it'. Hercules gave the entire crowd a dirty look. Then went back to the scroll. "King Ares has proclaimed his son shall be married by the end of the month" gasps whipped through the crowd, a few women screamed denial and one even fainted dead away. "There shall be a great ball, the likes of which has never before been seen. From which the Prince will choose a wife. Every noble in the entire land is expected to attend, on pain of death" he rolled up the scroll. King Ares never was one for lengthy speeches. Then he stepped down from the box, his two guards obligingly made an avenue through the peasants so he didn't have to touch any. Though one did manage to wave a little flag at him. Iolaus shoved his helmet up gave the flag waver a dirty look. "Oi, you wavin' the flag, yeah you, dirty little rotter, gimme that" the flag waver, who'd gone quite pale gave up the offending flag. "I should fink so too, ya can't go round wavin things at the spokesman like that. Do ye want a good pokin'" Autolycus obligingly swung his spear round to the peasant and gave a few fearsome jabs. They were both distracted by a shout of distress, rolled their eyes at each other and went to save the spokesman from the throng of peasants who were currently assailing him. --- "Babies" the doorway itself seemed to widen to make room for Countess Discord, well mostly for her dress which resembled a huge purple chandelier. She grasped her two daughters and slammed them both against ample amounts of escaping cleavage. "You'll be perfect, perfect." Phobos squeaked slightly, and Discord heard several ribs crack, she had never been the most durable of daughters. Deimos seemed perfectly content to snuggle in closer and appeared to be trying to lick her mothers throat. Which got her a shove and a smart slap. "Pay attention!" Discord straightened and surveyed them. "Perfect for what?" Phobos offered, laying a hand against her smarting chest. Alright so she was a little on the thin side but padding would help. There was always padding, maybe a little make-up to cover those dark shadows. Deimos was a little more difficult, it was the shoulders, ok the limbs. It wasn't that they didn't fit her body properly. More as if they just weren't making an effort. "Ares is offering up his son for marriage, finally. I intend one of you to inherit half the kingdom" Discord settled her hands on her hips, stating very clearly that failure was not an option. "You'll need dresses, shoes, hats, bags, and a new make-up woman, since Deimos ate the last one" she gave her daughter a solid glare which prompted Deimos to at least look contrite. "And there's barely any time, where's your sister?" --- "Why am I wearing a dress? I'm a guy, as if they didn't notice. And what's with the hearth scrubbing, we never use it! The whole bloody house is heated from the inside." Strife gave the bucket of grey water a dirty look. "I'm not putting my hand in there again" he dropped the cloth in it with a loud splash and stood up. He attempted to rearrange his dress, since the wet bits were sticking to his legs. Then the cellar door abruptly opened and smacked him on the arse. "Girl!" he managed to contort his body into a curtsy without spraining anything. "Yes stepmother" Discord barreled into the room and fluttered her hand in front of his face. He took it limply and kissed it. Discord seemed satisfied, "Girl, your sisters are attending a ball in prince Cupid's honor and I expect you to stay out of sight. There will be a lot of important people coming and going. I don't want to see your dirty little face anywhere above stairs, got it" Strife briefly thought about saying he never ventured upstairs anyway. Then decided that could get him a smack. "Yes stepmother" Deimos and Phobos both slid past their mother and peered down at him. "Dirty little thing aren't you?" Deimos exclaimed from behind her fan. Phobos slid closer and slid a cold hand through Strife's spiky hair. "Oh I don't know, she's rather appealing in a rough sort of way." Strife most certainly didn't like the way his stepsisters lips were curling. Or they way the two sisters were giving each other considering looks. He dragged the bucket of grey water closer and was delighted when both sisters drew back like it contained the plague. "You two, stop playing with your sister, Phobie you know your hand will never be the same again" Strife still felt the twinge in the back of his neck from that little adventure. Phobos drew back, cradling her twisted fingers, a remnant from them going where they had no business going. "Girl, get back to work, wash something!" Strife looked up, one day he was gonna work in here naked and then he'd see who called him girl. --- Cupid raised his hand to the door, it wavered a moment then dropped. Mostly because of the noises coming from inside. "Your majesty!" a very loud chuckle, which could only belong to his father and a groan. Then a squeal, which could be no one but Joxer, the kings chief advisor. Cupid settled his head against the door and very patiently waited. There was another groan, followed by more squealing. Then a noise which had Cupid blushing like an idiot. He wandered away from the door. His father in retaliation started groaning louder, then a grunt had him sidling towards the water fountain. 'Can't hear my father having sex, Can't hear my father having sex' He tried desperately to think of something else. Because otherwise it was just disturbing. Think about mother, no don't think about mother! Think about...naked...NO don't think about anyone naked. He was distracted from desperately trying not to think of anyone naked when the door opened. Joxer gave him a startled look, then coughed. rearranged the parts of his outfit which weren't backwards and scurried off down the hall. Cupid shook his head and walked into his fathers chambers. He found him wearing nothing but his crown in front of a very large mirror. "Ah come in my son" Cupid fought with his lunch briefly before stepping inside and shutting the doors. King Ares turned and Cupid hurriedly found something else to look at. Something that wasn't his eccentric naked father. "I don't want to get married" Ares sighed and moved away from the mirror. "Cupid, you have to get married, this is the way royalty works" Cupid found an interesting spot on the wall when his father sat down next to him. "I don't want to marry some beautiful woman I don't even know" Ares laughed. "My son, be thankful we're not really English, or you may have found yourself wed to some six year old Hungarian princess" Cupid gaped, forgot himself and stared straight at his father. "We're not English" Ares waved a hand, "Of course not, if we were English I couldn't walk around naked in my own kingdom" Cupid, who hadn't considered this before, shrugged. "I guess not" "So you'll marry this hearty wench and no more fuss about it hmm?" Cupid raised an eyebrow at his father. Who cleared his throat. "I'll go to the ball, but I'm not marrying anyone I don't like" his father slapped him on the back. "You're a good son" --- "Ow, Witch" Deimos clapped a hand over both her eyebrows and gave her sister a dirty look. "That hurt" Phobos, who appeared strained merely by holding the tweezers so long set them down. "Sister dear you're supposed to have two eyebrows not one" "Well at least all my fingers are straight, you harlot you. Couldn't keep your hands off her could you" Phobos retaliated by pulling a great chunk of hair from the middle of Deimos left eyebrow. "Aaaarrrrgh" Deimos shoved her sister, who went sprawling amongst a rack of dresses. She struggled upright far enough to hurl the tweezers which were left quivering in the wall inches from Deimos head. Her sister flung herself at her. Hands circling Phobos neck and overlapping. "I've seen chickens with bigger necks. I bet I could snap your head right off" Phobos went with her sharpness and raked nails across Deimos chest. The larger sister squealed, pulled back a fist. Two handfuls of black and blonde hair were grabbed and jerked upright. "What the hell are you two doing, look at you, I've seen that girl in the cellar tidier." Discord dropped them. "You will both get tidied up and dress for the ball now, or so help me I'll gag you both and throw you in the carriage." the door slammed behind her. "Now look what you did, you pissed her off" Deimos snarled. Phobos seethed. "Me!" --- ::POOF:: "Strifella" the bucket of water went flying. The wet cloth ended up on the intruders head. He paused just long enough to take in the sparkly pink outfit. He cautiously went over and pulled the dirty cloth out of the woman's hair. She looked shocked, and she was gaping quite widely. Strife threw the cloth over his shoulder. "I take it you're not a burglar then" the woman made a small noise. Looked as if she was about to burst into tears. He didn't need strange women appearing in the cellar, he was exhausted and he was finally alone. "No I'm Aphrodite your fairy Godmother" Strife gaped, barked laughter. "I have one of those" Aphrodite fidgeted with the wand and nodded. All the sparklyness appeared to have left her. "Um Strifel-" "It's just Strife!" he snapped. Aphrodite trembled, then did burst into tears. Strife sighed, wrapped his arms around the sobbing fairy Godmother. "It's not supposed to be like this. You're supposed to be happy to see me, you're not supposed to shout at me. I'm supposed to say 'You will go to the ball' and then you're supposed to be happy" Strife patted her on the back awkwardly. "Sounds like I'm supposed to do a lot of things." Aphrodite blew her nose on her sleeve quite loudly, then pulled back. "You do want to go to the ball don't you?" Strife shrugged, not particularly. The place was full of nobs and snobs, not the kind of place he could kick back and relax. "S'not really my kind of thing" Aphrodite looked stricken. "But you have to, you have to meet Cupid and get married" Strife raised both eyebrows and looked at her like she was mental. "That skanky prince, no way" Aphrodite mewled softly. "This is all going wrong, you're supposed to marry the beautiful prince" she sat on the overturned bucket and put her head in her hands. Strife dropped to his knees beside her. He tapped her on the shoulder, her head raised, utterly defeated. "Beautiful?" no one told him the prince was beautiful, he didn't get out much after all. Aphrodite, sensing an opening, grabbed it with both hands. "The beautifulest, this guy is so hot he makes the Venus di milo look like a chick with no arms. He's so fine he could make the sun rise" Strife was considering this. "And he's supposed to be mine?" "Sure, I come in with my wand and I give you some new clothes and a carriage and fancy shoes, the shoes are really important" she stood up. "Strifel-Strife you shall go to the ball" Strife shrugged and stood. Aphrodite raised her wand. "If you say bippety boppety boop I will kill you" Aphrodite slammed her mouth shut and cautiously lowered the wand. Strife waited, tapped his foot. Aphrodite opened her mouth again. "Or Alacazam" it promptly shut again. She sighed, lifted the wand again. "Or Abracadabra" Aphrodite now looked slightly desperate. "What am I allowed to say?" Strife leant forward, whispered something in her ear. She frowned "Oh please tell me you're kidding" Strife went back to his foot tapping. Aphrodite sighed deeply. Lifted the wand, raised it high, scowled as powerfully as she was able. "I don't believe I'm about to do this" she puffed out her chest, which did manage to give her next words some credence. "By the power of Greyskull!" there was an extremely showy flash of light. Then a thunderclap. --- "I give you, his esteemed royal highness and virg-" Cupid snatched the trumpeter's trumpet and waved it at him, leant down and hissed. "If you dare make that announcement I will personally shove this trumpet up your arse!" the trumpeter carefully nodded, cleared his throat. "Prince Cupid" he settled in the throne next to his father. Who, thank God, had decided to put some clothes on. "Ah my son!" he supposed his father was doing quite well. He had clothes on, he wasn't having sex. Though admittedly he did have his chief advisor squirming in his lap. All monarchs had to have their little eccentricities. "Look at this room full of lovely young women. See something you fancy hmm" Ares nudged him hard, sending his oversize crown into his eyes. With a groan of despair he shoved it back up. All he could see at the minute were several high society ladies in so much chiffon and silk the ball room had become a fire hazard. He sighed, he was thirsty, again. However every time he went to get a drink he was groped by almost everyone in range and that included some of the royal guards. He took a deep breath and stood. Watched hundreds of eyes follow him. He felt like a gazelle, if he froze wide eyed maybe everyone else would crouch floorward and get ready to pounce. He carefully sidled towards the enormous bowl of punch. Nearly there, nearly there, he got a face full of lace as a fan was thwapped in his direction. He jumped, found himself looking at the thinnest woman in the history of the world. He could see every bone she owned, including several he was sure she probably shouldn't. "Your highness" her curtsy was perfect, if you discounted the creaking, the few disjointed clicks. She straightened on a wince of pain. Cupid backed away slowly, much to her obvious despair. He laid a hand on the table and found the plate of chicken wings. Desperately he thrust it at her. "Here, have a chicken wing...please" then he hurried round to the other side of the table. Straight into...shoulders and elbows, and oddly enough knees. "Your highness" her curtsy was energetic, though it looked no less easy to perform. He felt trapped like a little bunny. Until of course a hand settled on his shoulder. "Your Highness, may I have this dance" he looked up into...wow...eyes. He didn't know eyes came that blue. He blinked, especially when mixed with the black of his suit. Oh, wow, he clicked as to why exactly the room full of society ladies didn't impress him. None of them were him. This most beautiful stranger, with hair like...something very spiky. "You're drooling your Highness" the stranger politely informed him. Cupid shook himself and went red with utter embarrassment, wiped his chin and swayed into the strangers arms. "Well that was hard" the stranger muttered. Cupid didn't particularly care. For one brief second he wanted to be his fathers son and get naked in a room full of people. "I've only got til midnight" the stranger offered. "Then I turn into a pumpkin" Cupid blinked. "Nah I'm just kidding" he swung an arm round the prince's waist and danced him quite skillfully around the room. Cupid was completely gone. On the eighty-fifth twirl he managed to get a look at the clock, half eleven. He slid closer to the stranger, laid his head against a soft velvet shoulder. Lifted his lips to a perfectly curved ear and whispered. "Do me now" the stranger groaned. "Where's your room?" he snapped. Cupid jerked his head. "Dance me that way" Happy to oblige the handsome stranger practically tangoed his way across the dance floor, then jerked Cupid into the hallway and slammed the door. The prince found himself pasted to the wall and was kissed thoroughly into submission. "Room" he managed to mumble, between tongues. "Screw the room" the stranger offered. Cupid whimpered "No screw me!" his expensive red brocade was obediently torn from his chest in a hail of buttons and string. "Oh God" he gasped. The handsome stranger paused. "I'm Strife by the way" Cupid, remembering his manners held out a hand. "Prince Cupid" they shook. Then pasted themselves back together. After another flurry of breathless kissing Strife pulled back again. "You should probably know that in about ten minutes I'm going to turn into a scruffy kitchen boy covered in soot. Cupid groaned and dropped his head back against the wall. "Ok" Strife didn't think it would be this easy, he was sure Aphrodite had mentioned shoes somewhere. --- "Don't they look sweet" Ares gestured at his son, who was currently smeared with black hand prints, slumped against the wall completely naked, curled around an equally dirty man, who appeared to be wearing the royal crown. They both slept on. "See my son does take after me, I told you he did" Joxer regarded the scene with a smile. "It looks rather familiar doesn't it your majesty" Ares grinned "Yes, though I seem to recall you were a stable boy" Joxer shrugged "Well he can't be too much like his father" "Thursday do you think?" "For what your majesty?" Joxer honestly looked confused. "The wedding of course" And they all lived happily ever after......geesh how gullible are you! |
