Work Text:
There is cover art but idk how to add it so trust me, its rlly good.
BanHammers Dream
A Phighting Scythehammer fanfic
Lights danced down from the high ceiling above and made the silk dress BanHammer wore shine like a gem near a campfire. The dress was as substantial as him and his physique, a broad petticoat made his waist seem about as wide as a two person table at a coffee shop. His arms, already large with muscle, now had drapey arm cuffs, he could sprawl out and look like a vulture from the south, wings outstretched and ready to soar.
But BanHammer was not ready to soar. In fact, he was nervous. The ballroom was filled with inphernals all dressed to the nines in capes, suits, dresses grander than his. He couldn't quite remember why he was in this dress. It felt so strange to wear something other than his armor. His mother would be ashamed of her son, disregarding his duties as warden to go to a ball. He drank very little from the wine, and truthfully drinking more of it would likely only make him feel more guilty. He wanted to leave, but the door was shut and wouldn't open until the night was concluded. Someone was probably making their escape from BanLands. I should really go, he thought, soon.
And just at the height of his feelings a familiar, raspy, but smooth tone same to his ears. “Hey big guy~”
BanHammer looked down, Scythe was here. The most wanted criminal in all of the Inpherno, wanted for her serial murders against the men who'd fallen for her charms. Indeed, someone had escaped their cell, and for the millionth time she did. She was in a suit, but it was more lax compared to the suits of many of the others. Open jacket, slick single pants, dancing shoes. She looked like she was on the cast of the new musical in Crossroads: “The Escape Artist, story of a woman who wouldn't stay in her goddamn cell for more than a day”.
“Scythe! You should be-” He began, but he was cut off. Scythe took one of his hands into hers and fidgeted with the black drapes from his cuffs. She spoke in a way that wasn't teasing like usual, that wasn't cocky or rude. “Never took ya’ for the ‘fem type’ but… I can get behind it.”
“Uh…” he replied. Because of everything- because of everything about this situation.
“Say big guy, care for a dance?” She reached up his arm and to his chin, making him look down to her.
And the son of the goddess Windforce, warden of the BanLands, wielder of the hammer capable of sending any into its inescapable walls with a swing replied “I-... uh… I don't think I…”
“You alright, there?~” teased the actual serial killer and wanted terrorist.
BanHammer felt his face turn numb with red. He knew that his mother would demand him to throw her aside, to summon his gear, to put her back right now. But he felt so much from this simple touch and tease. And his mind was already swirling with feelings of danger and flusteredness at the same time, she slipped her other hand over his waist and held him closer. “One dance?”
“I-…” he stuttered, “I can dance!” What? WHAT!? That's what he had to say right now?
“Theres the spirit!” She said, pulling him by his waist to the ballroom floor.
WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEACTUALFUCK, he thought.
She moved with the sounds of the band playing, a small group playing mostly violins and pianos. She used her hand on BanHammers hip to move him too, not forcing, but guiding him to the sound. “Just like that.” She assured him, stepping with him.
Suddenly the thoughts cleared up and he saw only the band, and her, and heard only the band and her. He stepped in a triple step with her, leaning into nothing but the music, and moving in no way but with her. “Now you've got it, big guy!” She sounded so pleasantly surprised. He felt so warm and fuzzy around his chest, and his cheeks. He lost track of the time, stepping back and forth in threes. Spinning and feeling her arms and her hands on his shoulder and waist. He had lost himself. There was nothing else in this world but this, admittedly horrifying looking woman, him, and a band made to perform only for them. If there were years of this, setting, and spinning, and feeling, and looking, he'd be fine. If there was nothing but this dance, he would not care.
“You wanna go sit down somewhere?” She asked him. He had forgotten completely that there were movements besides dancing.
“Do you want to..?”
“Of course I do, you just look so…” she tilted her head trying to place it “Calm. Like I've never seen.”
“I-... do..?” His face flushed again. “Not anymore!” she chuckled dryly “you poor thing!”
He felt embarrassed now. Flushed and dressed up like a princess, in front of his arch enemy. Wait…
Wait…
WHAT?
Reality came back to him, he shook his head and let go of Scythe. “You- you're meant to be in-” She grabbed both his hands and caressed them with her own. “I'll take that as a yes.” “No! We aren't going to sit down! We-”
They sat down. WAIT WHAT!? “Wait! No! I-...”
“Calm down, Banny. You seem way too tense for all this.” She rubbed his shoulders a bit and slowly lowered his back onto her lap. He looked up at her from the same perspective a puppy should.
“This is…”
“Wrong?”
“I…” yes, it was very wrong “no… I like this.”
“Didnt know you had a heart under all that armor, BanHammer. But now I see it. All wrapped up in a ball gown.” She rubbed his broad shoulder again and he turned a deep shade of red.
Even she knew it was wrong. Why was this happening? “Mama won't be-” She immediately covered his mother with her hand and shook her head. “Don't think about any of that, okay?”
Scythe wrapped her arms around BanHammer as she flipped him over slowly so that his chest was on her right knee. He hesitated before hugging her back, face against her abdomen. He felt so… safe. Like nothing else in or around this place mattered. Like he could just be held like this, and protected forever. He looked up at her again, this time leaning his head up to stare at her up close. A flush came over her now, but she just smirked and held his face, pulling him in and kissing him.
Her kiss felt… arid?... like… nothing. Like stale air. Tasted like… like… charcoal… in fact her lips… weren't there… a light came to his eyes.
He was in his bed in his warden's quarters again, where he had just been before he was transported to that ballroom. And actually, he was alone.
And he had just frenched the air.
He was no longer to be protected, and the fantasy was gone. But why the hell was he kissing Scythe??? That's not normally a part of this! What the fu-